


Never Get Involved in a Land War in Asia

by nutmeag83



Series: Molly and Stella [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: But only a little, Cats, Dancing, Dialogue-Only, F/F, Ficlet Collection, Figuring Things Out, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Knitting, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Major adorkableness, Music Recs, No Smut, SO MUCH FLUFF, Texting, background Johnlock, interconntected ficlets, nerds being nerds, questions on the gender of the easter bunny, telling fairy tales as a form of comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-03 18:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14575194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutmeag83/pseuds/nutmeag83
Summary: A collection of ficlets over the course of several months, showing the growth of Molly and Stella's relationship, from learning to be best friends to holy-shit-I'm-in-love to this-will-never-work to happily ever after.





	1. Coffee, 26 November

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed the December writing challenge I did a few months ago _(Here We Are as in Olden Days)_ , and I got some interest for Molly and Stella’s little side story, so, because I’m trying to get rid of some writer’s block, I decided to give myself another challenge while also expanding Molly and Stella’s storyline. I’m challenging myself to 20 ficlets in 20 days. Like _Olden Days_ , this story will be separate ficlets that follow a connected storyline. I will also be doing varied storytelling again, because I loved it so much last time. You’ll see texting, dialogue only, several POVs, and who knows what else. 
> 
> This is a self-made challenge, so I’ve just pulled words from a list of one-word prompts and will go from there!
> 
> You don’t need to have read _Olden Days_ to understand this story, though I do suggest checking out Part 1 of this Molly and Stella series, _I'll be Your Harvester of Light_ (which just pulls the three M &S ficlets from _Olden Days_ into their own story), and Part 2, _I See Your True Colors_. Both are short little holiday stories to prep you for this Hoopkins-stravaganza.
> 
> Warning: My previous M&S stories could be read as gen or pre-slash, but we’re getting into full-on slash (PG rated) in this here story. Some angst too. But still lots of fun dialogue and flirty texts. :D
> 
> Not beta’d or Brit-picked. Molly forgives me, I hope you can too.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock observes Molly and her new friend and deduces a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place just after Sherlock’s return from the dead and before _Olden Days_.
> 
> I’ve been big on the music I listen to while writing Molly and Stella’s story, so I’ll be sharing that with you along the way. You can listen to the Spotify playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/1248303817/playlist/0NHcWv0pyN0VdF2tJgf9jn?si=DxmpIrAVSoqWqvdrEllNDA), or follow along as I link to individual songs in each chapter. They aren’t always direct inspirations for each chapter, but they often are. 
> 
> To start things off, [“Die Alone”](https://youtu.be/KlhyLnnI7Qk) by Ingrid Michaelson and [“Song Beneath the Song”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3BjcbX-uEw0) by Maria Taylor.

The lab is quiet. It’s early on a Monday. So early that Molly hasn’t even arrived yet. Sherlock likes the quiet, before the air gets clogged with stupidity.

“I don’t understand. What makes you think the brother did it? What’s his motive?”

Speaking of… Sherlock spares a moment from the test results he’s skimming to glare at John. “It’s obvious.”

“Not to me.” John leans against the lab bench opposite Sherlock’s, boredom, fond amusement, and confusion marking every line of his body. Despite the fact that John’s questions sometimes slow Sherlock down, he can’t help but love having John by his side again. John has only been back at Baker Street a week, but already it feels just like the old days—the two of them against the rest of the world. So Sherlock puts up with John’s oblivious questions. It’s not as if those questions haven’t come in handy many times. John is his conductor of light after all.

Before Sherlock can explain, the door opens, heralding Molly’s arrival. Her scarf is falling off her shoulder, her clothes are so mismatched even a color-blind person would shudder, and she’s in the process of dropping half her armload of files—typical Molly. Just like with John’s idiocy, though, Sherlock is happy for the familiarity. He might even go so far to say that Molly’s appearance is…endearing.

Sherlock never realized he had a home until he left it. He’s back now, though, and grateful for even the quirkiest and dullest bits.

“Ah, Molly. I need you to run this through the spectrometer,” he requests (quite politely, he congratulates himself), holding up a sample for her to take.

John sighs.

“What?” Sherlock asks, stymied as to what he could have done wrong so early in the day. He tries not to get annoyed.

“Molly’s job is not to do your job,” John explains, far too condescendingly for Sherlock’s taste. He reminds himself again how much he missed John, in all of his forms, while they were apart. It sort of works.

“But she yelled at me the last time I used it,” Sherlock counters.

“That’s because you changed the settings and forgot to tell anyone or change them back, thus making all results for the next week completely wrong.” John walks over and plucks the vial from Sherlock’s hand. Really, what is with John’s attitude this morning? “I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do it wrong.”

“I have a medical degree. I know how to work a spectrometer.”

They glare at each other until Sherlock finally gives in. He need to get back to checking results anyway. He’ll have Molly go and check on John’s progress in a bit. He rolls his eyes, which John rightly takes as assent. He really does read Sherlock so well sometimes. The thought raises his spirits again.

“Molly, is it alright if I use the spectrometer?” John asks with an overemphasized polite tone. Sherlock rolls his eyes again and tunes them out.

An hour later, he’s checking a few final things while texting Lestrade his latest discovery. John is lounging in the chair next to him, and Molly’s at the other end of the room, humming far too cheerfully while she works.

The door opens on the new detective in Lestrade’s department—Hooper? No that’s Molly’s name. Harper? Hooke? Ah! Hopkins. She’s a decent enough addition: young enough not to have developed too many bad habits; willing to use unconventional methods; comes up with interesting ideas, even if they’re mostly wrong. Most of all, she doesn’t hate Sherlock. Yet. He’s hoping to keep it that way, especially since he doesn’t have anyone who will work with him in Arts and Antiques, where she will definitely be transferring to within six months. Homicide is not really her strong suit. He’ll have to be sure to mention that to Lestrade soon…

“Oh good, Molly, you’re here,” Hopkins says with a sunny smile. “I was worried it was too early yet, but I had this thing I needed to check and can’t do much else until that’s done, so I thought I’d just wander on over this way and wait for you to arrive, but you’re here, so that’s that taken care of.” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and gives a half-grin, half-grimace.

Sherlock’s brows raise higher the more the detective talks. He’s not seen her like this before. Though she has a bit of a problem focusing, she’s been very professional and put together the couple of times he’s interacted with her. But this speech is worthy of a Molly ramble. Could he have deduced her incorrectly? No, she was easy to figure out. Close with a sibling who was ill, which kept her tied down to a job and a town she didn’t like. Recently arrived in London, looking for a fresh start. Smart, good at her job when given the right incentive and a kernel of information to push her in the right direction. Perhaps she’s just disorganized early on a Monday. She’s not had her morning coffee, so that could be throwing her off.

He studies the woman while she continues chatting with Molly, finally getting to her actual request. Sherlock half tunes them out, finishing his own work just as Molly is confirming the information Hopkins needs. He taps John’s hand and darts his eyes toward their coats. John nods and starts bundling up to head out.

“…so I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee,” he catches Hopkins saying, and it clicks. Of _course_. How had he missed it before? The fidgeting hands, the rambling, the giggles—it’s nerves. More precisely, worry that someone is not interested. And the only person Hopkins has interacted with in this room is Molly. So, just an interest in pretty women in general or Molly specifically? He believes the latter, given the question Hopkins just asked her. A clear invite for a coffee date.

Sherlock eyes Molly with interest, looking for signs of either reciprocation or rejection. She’s a little scattered, but no worse than usual. She seems calm enough, given that she’s never terribly comfortable around strangers, though women put her at ease more than men, of course. A terrible habit she’s fallen into, only looking at men with an eye toward romance, rather than by what help they can offer to her job or social life. Narrow-minded, but common enough in younger women. Dull.

“I’m good thanks. Just had a cup. Another would just make me jittery!” Really? How can Molly be so obtuse? Hopkins might as well paint her interest in mile-high font.

He’s about to say something to help Molly out when John nudges him, completely oblivious to the drama happening in front of them. “Ready? We need to check out the victim’s flat before heading to the Yard, right?”

Sherlock shakes himself free of his study. Right. Probably best not to say anything. John would say it’s rude or something. He nods. “I was thinking deli after that,” he comments, mindful of John’s need for sustenance.

John beams at him, and oh how Sherlock has missed that smile. “Sounds great.”

They leave to the sounds of Hopkins backtracking, and Sherlock can’t help but smile. This should be interesting.


	2. Adorable, 16 December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Stella discuss cats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my M&S series timeline, this occurs just after Molly realizes Stella is her Elf in I'll be Your Harvester of Light, [Chapter 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13871658/chapters/31912446).
> 
> I’m posting this one the same day as the first chapter, because it’s already written, so why not? I considered doing the formatting I used for Olden Days, but I’m feeling far too lazy, so you’ll get regular formatting on texting chapters. 
> 
> Songspiration: [“There She Goes”](https://youtu.be/19dzm45ttWE) by Sixpence None the Richer (cover)

**Text convo from Stella to Molly**

**Sent / 09:48  
** Thanks again for doing those tests so quickly. Saved my bacon!

**Molls / 09 57  
** Any time. Happy to help! :-)

**Sent / 10:01  
** I’ve got to drop off those folders this afternoon. I could do it EOD, then we could grab a bite after? I’m in the mood for sushi.

**Molls / 10:02  
** Oh! That sounds lovely. Though it might make Toby jealous. ;-)

**Sent / 10:03  
** Ha! Hmm. Maybe somewhere else? Can’t upset His Highness.

**Molls / 10:03  
** Oh no! Sushi is fine. Toby will survive.

**Sent / 10:03  
** Good. I’ll drop by around 6?

**Molls / 10:04  
** Perfect :-D

***

**Sent / 13:07  
** kitty.jpg

**Sent / 13:07  
** Does Toby need a friend? We found this little guy huddling behind the shed we were searching.

**Molls / 13:18  
** Oh no! Poor baby. How could anyone do that to a little kitten? :’-(

**Molls / 13:18  
** I’d love another cat, but my landlord’s rule is one pet per flat. Grr.

**Molls / 13:19  
** You love cats too. Why don’t you keep him? It’s so nice having someone to come home to. :-)

**Sent / 13:27  
** Huh. I hadn’t thought about it. Never could have them growing up because Dad is allergic. Then it was uni, then it was back with my parents. But I can have a cat now, can’t I?

**Molls / 13:28  
** Yes! Then you could bring him over for playdates with Toby. Awww, they’d be so cute together! <3

**Molls / 13:41  
** Or not…

**Sent / 13:44  
** Sorry! Greg needed me to look at some stuff. Playdates sound awesome. I’d love that.

**Sent / 13:44  
** You know what? I think I will keep him. You’re right. It would nice having someone to come home to.

**Sent / 13:44  
** Now I have to name him.

**Molls / 13:45  
** Hmmm. Do we know it’s a him? Not that it matters.

**Sent / 13:47  
** Oh. Actually it’s a lady.

**Molls / 13:49  
** Lulu? Oreo? Midnight? I’m not good with names. Sorry. :-(

**Sent / 13:57  
** Oh! Miss Kitty Fantastico

**Molls / 13:58  
** Sounds familiar

**Sent / 14:01  
** It’s from Buffy. It was Willow and Tara’s cat. They look a lot alike.

**Molls / 14:03  
** Oh yes! I remember! I love it. :-D

**Sent / 14:03**  
Ok then. Miss Kitty Fantastico it is.

**Molls / 14:06  
** I guess that means no sushi. You need to get her to the vet, then home to get her settled in.

**Sent / 14:12  
** I could get her settled then we could go for late dinner?

**Molls / 14:12  
** You should stay with Miss Kitty tonight. She’ll need you.

**Sent / 14:15  
** I’m sorry. Guess I didn’t think of that.

**Molls / 14:16  
** It’s fine. Kitty is more important. We can hang out another time.

**Sent / 14:17  
** Bummer. But yes! We’ll hang out sometime soon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I strongly dislike cats, so from here on out, you’ll just get vague references to the cats and their playdates. Apologies to the cat lovers.


	3. Death, 1986

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Molly's childhood and early adulthood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pay attention to the dates in the chapter titles!
> 
> Songspiration: [“Breakable”](https://youtu.be/VHW_cH39YIY) by Ingrid Michaelson

Molly was introduced to death when she was six years and seven months old. This was when Dad’s budgie Richard died. She didn’t really understand it then, because one day he was there, and the next he was gone. Dad explained that Richard got old, and getting old meant getting tired, so he was going to sleep forever now. But the idea of death was still pretty vague for Molly. Three weeks and two days later, her grandmother died. Heart disease, Mum said, but that didn’t explain much. Did she die because her heart was sad? Did her heart get tired like Richard? Gran was old too, older than Richard. Where did Gran go? To the same place Richard went? Where did Richard go?

After two days of such questions, Dad sat Molly down and explained what death meant. It made sense, because she’d seen dead bugs, and there were the mouse traps her mother set in the garage, one of which Molly came upon once after it snapped closed on a tiny mouse. Of course, the more questions Dad answered, the more questions Molly had. What happened to the bodies? What about the minds? The souls? Dad answered every question, pulling down the ancient encyclopedia set when he didn’t know the scientific answers (he was an artist). After several hours, Molly was finally satisfied, though she thought about death a lot for the next few weeks.

She stopped after she was sent home from school with a letter from Teacher, saying she was concerned for Molly and thought she needed to see a counselor. Dad sat down with her again, explaining that people didn’t like death, that it scared them. It was something that happened frequently but that people ignored most of the time. Molly didn’t quite understand this, but she knew that if she kept talking about death, she might get in trouble, and she didn’t like getting in trouble.

Death was a periphery character after that, mostly something she heard about on the news or when fellow classmates’ family members died. When Molly was twenty-two years and three months, she was doing hospital rounds while reading medicine at uni. The third time she fainted, her supervisor pulled her aside and suggested she try another area of study. Devastated, because she really enjoyed learning about the human body, she spent the next five weeks alternately agonized and angry. That was when she did a turn in the morgue. Nothing may have come of it if not for the body that came in while she was there.

Molly had worked with dead bodies before, of course. She had always viewed them as a tool for learning, same as a textbook or slides under a microscope. The bodies she’d seen so far in the morgue had all been natural deaths, not requiring more than a cursory check to confirm the cause of death. Then the pathologist started working on a body that looked healthy as can be, stymied at the cause of death. Fascinated, she’d watched as the pathologist did all sorts of tests, crossing off more and more possible causes of death without discovering anything. Then one of the tests Molly was asked to run turned up the cause of death—a rare, organic poison. The pathologist let her call the detective in charge of the case to give the results, and the detective had excitedly told Molly that an acquaintance of the victim’s was a botanist, which later led to an investigation into and the arrest of the botanist.

From then on, Molly was hooked. She had helped someone figure out a mystery. There were so many interesting things to learn about bodies and causes of death. She loved learning the signs of poisons and strangulations and embolisms. People were still frightened of death and avoided the topic when possible, but for once, Molly was not looked at warily for asking questions about death. In her new chosen career field, it was encouraged. The more one knew, the better a pathologist they’d be, the more people they could help, the more criminals would be put behind bars.

Death became a job for her, one she was good at. It stayed a job until the day Dad called with the news. Cancer, inoperable. That was when death became a reality.


	4. Gratitude, 28 January

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly thinks about her dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second of two chapters posted today. Read chapter 3 if you missed the flashback to Molly's childhood. 
> 
> Both Chapters 2 and 3 of I'll be Your Harvester of Light occur before this chapter. 
> 
> Songspiration: [“No One’s Gonna Love You”](https://youtu.be/cuZo7pLnL7c) by Band of Horses

**_Molly’s personal journal_ **

28 January 2014

Dad died 3 yrs ago today. It should be easier to deal with by now. And usually it is, when it’s everyday things. But certain days are still hard. It hurts just as bad on the 3rd anniversary as it did on the first one. My brain keeps flashing back to his last day ~~ali~~ with us. He was so sick by then that he only had momentary lucid periods the last week. That was the worst, seeing the beautiful and creative mind so confused he had trouble recognizing faces. He loved drawing faces, loved their expressions. He said that every time he drew my face, it was his love that made it turn out so well rather than his talent.

On that last day, it was like he knew it was his last chance with the family, and he was lucid most of the day, like he wanted to remember and experience those last few hours before moving on. Did he have anything to move on to? You’d think after years working in the morgue, I wouldn’t still be asking myself these questions, but I can’t help it when I think about him. He was so lovely and so bright, the thought of his mind and his… personality? soul? being just snuffed out makes me sad. He was one of those people that deserved to live forever, not gone before his time. Too bad the world is shit.

That’s harsh. I suppose my mood is affecting this entry. I called Mum, as I always do on the anniversary. And, as always, she was…less than grateful. I never understood their relationship, really. I see why he stayed, because he wanted me to have two parents under one roof, but how did they fall in love to begin with? Mum has been obsessed with her job and with science for as long as I’ve known her, while Dad was all love and happy smiles and artsy creativeness. I’ve never believed that opposites attract, but they are truly on opposite ends of the personality spectrum, so I guess there has to be at least some truth to it?

I’m getting off topic. Mum was her usual blunt and cold self. Sorry. Again, that was mean. She feels, she just hides it. But she hides it behind hurtful words, even though she knows how they affect me. I cried after. Of course. Silly emotional Molly. I’m not sure why I bother calling. We always end up fighting. Rather, she says hurtful things and I mumble stupidly while trying not to burst into tears.

I miss him so much. Somehow he always made her…softer, easier to take. She was better with him around. So was I. God I miss him.

***

Stella just called. She remembered that it was his anniversary. She’s such an amazing friend, and I’m lucky she wants to be mine. She wanted to make sure I was doing ok. Asked if I wanted her to go with me to his grave, or just bring over mindless films to take my mind off of it, or go out to a bar and get completely pissed.

I haven’t been brave enough to go to his grave since the funeral. But I think I’m ready now. With someone at my side. Someone who won’t make fun if I cry. Someone who can be a quiet comfort, a presence at my side to help me be strong. I’ve never had that before. I’ve had friends of course. Ones I always thought were good ones, close ones. But Stella is different from any friend I’ve had before. I can tell her anything. She never judges or acts condescending. She’s just my friend. She gets me. She likes me to be me. Kind of reminds me of Dad in that way.

So we’re going to Dad’s grave in a bit, then she said she wanted to treat me to dinner. Well, her suggestion was skipping dinner and going to the new dessert place instead. I must admit a fudge trifle sounds lovely about now.

I’m forever grateful to the series of events that led to us meeting. She’s exactly who I need in my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise things get a bit more upbeat after this. Sorry for the downer chapters... Poor Molly


	5. Dance, 8 March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Stella meet up for dancing. Confessions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This occurs after [I See Your True Colors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13872030).
> 
> Songspiration: [“Somersault”](https://youtu.be/76lgVmX4UvE) by Sia and Zero 7. This is the song that always makes me think of Molly and Stella, from way back when I wrote their little ficlets in _Olden Days._ To me it encompasses both their bond and the playful sweetness both women embody. 
> 
> Dialogue-only chapter ahoy

“Oh, umm, hey!”

“Sorry I’m late! Miss Kitty decided to pee on the carpet just before I headed out.”

“That’s, umm, fine.”

“You okay, Molls?”

“Yeah, sure, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem nervous or anxious.”

Nervous laugh. “Oh no, I’m peachy…”

…

“I’venevergonedancingbefore.”

“Really? You seemed stoked when we last talked.”

“I am! Promise. I just– This is new, and new things make me nervous. I never had time before. I was concentrating on my grades at uni, and then my job required a lot of work hours. And I never… I never had many friends… I’m sorry. You should have come with someone you could have fun with.”

“Silly girl. When will you get it through your thick skull? I have fun with _you_!”

“I know. Really, I do! We have fun watching telly and playing with cats and going to pub quizzes. But this is _dancing_. I’m going to look like an idiot and feel like an idiot, and– and, it’ll ruin everything.”

“Hey there. No crying now.”

…

“You know what I love about dancing?”

Sniff. “What?”

“It’s kind of like alcohol. Some combination of the music, the dance floor, and the crowds makes you lose your inhibitions. You kind of know you look stupid, but you just don’t give a fuck. It’s fun! And even if you’re the worst dancer in the world, no one cares. They’re all worried _they_ look bad, so they’re not paying attention to anyone else’s dancing. Trust me, this is _far_ from _Strictly Come Dancing_.

Sniff. “Really?”

“Really. And I promise, if you get out there and aren’t having a cracking time, we’ll leave and go do something else. Just promise me that you’ll give it a chance? I want to share this with you.”

“Of course. If it means that much to you. Just. You must tell me if I look like a complete numpty.”

“That’s what BFFs are for, aren’t they?”

… “I’m your BFF?”

“Um, yeah… You don’t have–”

“You’reminetoo.”

“Oh.” … “Good. Glad that’s settled. Sooo. Should we head inside? I think I’m getting frostbite.”

“Oh! Gosh. I’m so sorry. Yes. Let’s go in. Let’s go dancing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short. I'm hoping to get the next chapter posted today as well, but it still needs a little work, so it'll depend on how busy I am at my real job this afternoon...


	6. Pattern, 1990

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Stella's childhood, plus knitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I like to talk about knitting. A lot. I try to be cool about it though. Not sure I succeeded…
> 
> I’m basing kid Stella fairly closely on my niece. That kid can’t sit still for longer than two minutes unless there are animals, books, or knitting involved. I haven’t taught her to knit yet, but she did climb into my lap once and quietly watched me knit for 15 minutes while barely moving. I loved being able to share that with her.
> 
> Songspiration: [“Green and Gold”](https://youtu.be/qnogG7IMj8o) by Lianne La Havas

Stella’s knitting obsession began when she was seven years and five months. She was an outdoor kid from the beginning. She and her younger brother Lee would be out in the yard from sun up to sun down on days they were allowed, while her older brother Ken holed up in a quiet corner of the house with a book. She’d always envied Ken’s ability to sit and concentrate on one thing for hours. She loved stories, but there was always something equally as interesting to distract her. The only time she calmed down was around animals. She could spend hours sitting with her neighbor’s cats, just petting them and talking to them. Dad was allergic, though, so she was never lucky enough to have one (or more) of her own.

The summer she was seven and a half, Mum and Dad were busy with work, so Stella and her brothers were sent to stay with her auntie An outside of Birmingham. Auntie lived in a rickety old farmhouse in the country, with a creaky barn, four cats, two dogs, a donkey, a goat, and a handful of sheep. It was the most fun Stella had ever had during summer hols. The only times she and Lee were seen was at breakfast, supper, and bedtime, the rest of their waking hours were spent exploring every nook and cranny of the small acreage her auntie owned, playing with the animals, and discovering the best spots for hide and seek. They even managed to talk Ken into playing from time to time.

Three weeks into their stay, however, four summer storms queued up and dropped rain for two weeks straight. It took all of a day and half for Stella to drive her auntie mad, and it only took that long because the first rainy day was spent exploring the creepy spare rooms and dusty attic of the old farmhouse. The morning of the second day, however, found Stella following her auntie around, asking questions and whinging about being bored. Even Lee had settled down with coloring books and puzzles with no complaint, but Stella thought coloring was boring, and the puzzles failed to hold her attention for more than ten minutes.

Auntie An finally threw up her hands and told her they could watch a film. Unfortunately, her auntie’s VHS collection left something to be desired when it came to children’s fare, so they ended up watching _Annie_ , with Stella finding the title character to be mostly annoying and silly. A few minutes in, her auntie pulled out her ever-present knitting. It took about three minutes to distract Stella from the film. Something about the movements fascinated her. They were exact and soothing, and she was intrigued at how a string of yarn could become the beautiful scarf her auntie was making.

Stella scooted to the floor to pick up the ball of yarn from the knitting basket, wondering how they put all of the colors on the skinny yarn. Paint? Colored pencils? She sorta remembered learning about dyes in art class last term. Maybe they dipped the string in different colors. That would take a while, though. The yarn was very long. Plus, some of the colored sections were very small. Perhaps they had very small fairies to dip it for them.

Soon, Stella was distracted again from her musings by her auntie’s movements. Her hands moved so quickly, picking up yarn and making the needles twist it in a way that turned it into a piece of fabric. How on earth did she do it? It looked like magic. It wasn’t until her auntie lowered her knitting that Stella realized her nose was almost touching the fabric, she was so close.

“You like that?” Auntie An asked with a smile.

Stella nodded.

“You can touch it,” her auntie encouraged.

All the invitation she needed, Stella grabbed the bottom of the scarf, trying to trace her fingers along the yarn to see how it all linked up, but she still couldn’t figure it out.

“How does it stay together? You twist it somehow, with the needles. How does it work?”

Auntie patted her lap and grinned. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

Stella eagerly scrambled up into her auntie’s lap, catching a whiff of flowers from her auntie’s perfume as she did. As she settled, her auntie brought her hands and the knitting in front of them both.

“Watch,” she whispered and slowly stuck the right needle into a loop on the left needle, grabbed the loose yarn with her finger and looped it onto the right needle, and pulled it through the loop, making a new loop on the right needle.

“Again,” Stella demanded, fascinated. Her auntie performed the magic trick again, just as slowly. “More.”

“Please?” prompted her long-suffering auntie.

“Please?” Stella asked as sweetly as possible.

She watched her auntie knit an entire row, the rhythm entrancing her just like animals did. Then Auntie flipped the fabric around so she could knit the other side.

“Now comes the fun part,” her auntie said.

“Why?” It was already quite fun, Stella thought.

“Because the last row was all knit stitches. Now I’m going to make holes so it looks lacey, like the bottom part,” she explained, pointing further down the scarf where there were indeed holes and bunches that made a pretty pattern. Stella’s auntie explained the different stitches and how they worked—how the yarn overs turned into holes and how she then had to get rid of other stitches by knitting several together. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but it looked like fun.

On the next row of knit stitches, Stella suddenly understood. She saw her auntie make the stitch, and it…just clicked. She could see how the twists and loops became connected to make a fabric. After that, the other types of stitches were easy to see. She stopped her auntie twice to pick up the fabric further down, and she could see which parts of the fabric were made with certain stitches.

She spent the rest of the film in her auntie’s lap, watching in fascination as the scarf grew. After that, it was snack time, then they headed into the village to pick up the post and food for supper. All throughout, Stella pictured the stitches in her head, only stopping when she petted the dog outside of the butcher’s shop and again when she and her brothers raced each other down the pavement from the grocer’s back to the car.

Next morning, when the rain persisted and Stella looked longingly out of the water-streaked window in the sitting room as her brothers quietly played a board game on the floor, Auntie An settled on the window seat next to her. She held a ball of yellow yarn and two wooden needles.

“You want to try?” Auntie asked, offering the yarn and needles to Stella.

Stella reached out eagerly, before drawing back. “I probably can’t do it.” She had trouble doing anything someone taught her. School was her least favorite place, except for science class, when they got to look at neat things and Miss explained stuff about animals and plants, which was really cool.

Auntie An nodded and hummed. “It’s a bit frustrating at first, but once you get the hang of it, it’s as easy as tying your shoes. You can do that, right?”

Stella scrunched up her nose, not sure she could trust her auntie. Knitting still looked hard, even though she could see the stitches now. However, she _was_ really good at tying her shoes, so maybe this would be the same. She finally nodded. “Okay.”

It was a struggle at first—her auntie made it look so easy. But after a few days, Stella got pretty good at the knit stitches. That’s all she could do though, and she soon grew bored of just making a long strip of knit stitches. She was glad when the rain finally ended and she could put the needles aside.

She didn’t pick them up again for another three years, when her parents sent her back to Auntie An’s after a troubling year in school. This time her fingers were more dexterous and she had a keener eye, so her auntie taught her several more stitches, plus how to cast on and bind off. Every time they watched a film or Auntie read a story out loud, Stella would pull out her knitting. She made three scarves that summer.

The next summer, Auntie taught her how to knit in the round, with needles attached by cables. She added four hats to her portfolio over the next year, one for each person in her family. Her grades and attitude improved, but she still spent at least part of the summer hols with her auntie each year until she passed her A levels.

She kept up her knitting for a while after that. It saw her through exams at university, police training, break-ups, and her first job. Over time, though, she found less time to knit. Between trying to reach inspector rank and helping her parents take care of Ken, who had been diagnosed with cancer and needed round-the-clock care for a few months when things were the worst, knitting became a luxury she didn’t have time for.

It wasn’t until she got into a conversation with her new friend Molly about knitting that Stella allowed herself to remember how much she’d loved the craft. She’d gone home that very night and dug her knitting stash out of a cupboard, determined to get back into it.

Within a week, she had two hats and the beginnings of a scarf. When she later had the idea of giving Molly little advent gifts to thank her for being her friend, she found the perfect yarn to make the perfect hat for her.

Along with the move to London and becoming friends with Molly, returning to knitting was the best decision Stella had made for herself in years.


	7. Sun, 8 March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella and Molly go dancing. Stella has a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows directly after Chapter 5. 
> 
> Songspiration: [“I Wanna Dance with Somebody”](https://youtu.be/eH3giaIzONA) by Whitney Houston 
> 
> Bonus, because Stella’s “oh fuck” moment just gives me the feels: [“Suddenly I See”](https://youtu.be/9AEoUa0Hlso) by KT Tunstall (you have to squint and pretend the narrator is talking about someone she’s in love with, not someone she wants to be like; but I love this song so I had to use it) 

The music thumps. The lights flash. The crowd thrums.

Stella loves this. Music is one of the few things to make her feel grounded, connected. She can get lost in music and dancing for hours. It’s been too long since she’s danced. Like with knitting, it was something she kind of gave up when Ken was sick. Which was idiotic. She’d needed both activities more than ever then. But she’d got into this spiral of unhappiness, and it had seemed easier to wallow in it than try to pull herself out. But Ken is better now, and Stella is in a better job in a better location, and she has a best friend who lets Stella drag her to a place even though it makes her feel awkward and nervous.

Stella glances over at Molly, who is tapping her nails nervously on the slim bar that lines the dance floor. Despite her nerves, she’s only taken a couple of sips of her G&T. Instead, her eyes scan the room, watching the dancers bounce across the dance floor.

“Can I get you something else?” Stella yells over the music, nodding to the full glass.

“Oh no. It’s fine.” Molly takes a drink to prove her point and gives Stella a tiny smile.

Stella frowns to herself. She’s sad that Molly didn’t share her nervousness over the outing with Stella earlier, but she knows how much of a people pleaser Molly can be. And a part of her is flattered that Molly would try something so out of her comfort zone, just because Stella had mentioned loving dancing and that she hadn’t managed to go since moving to London. It was actually Molly who had suggested the outing. Apparently her nerves had got to her between then and now.

Determined to put her friend at ease, Stella starts talking about the latest adventures in pet owning. As expected, talk of cats soon has Molly smiling her bright smile and sipping at her G&T a little faster. Stella loves Molly’s smile. It always has a way of pushing away Stella’s bad moods, like the sun chasing away clouds. An apt description. Molly has quickly become Stella’s own sun, always ready with a quip or a joke that never fails to make Stella feel warm and happy. She guesses she’s a flower in this analogy—she finds herself turning to her friend as often as she can to soak up the goodness.

Molly’s smile grows as a new song showers its beats over the room. “I love this song!”

Realizing this is the perfect way to get Molly over her nerves, Stella holds up her glass. “Drink up!”

Molly frowns and cocks her head.

“We have to dance! Best if we don’t leave our drinks alone.”

Molly’s face clears, then she bites her lip. “Maybe…”

“No, Molls. You promised.” Stella puts on her best puppy dog face. She’s not above a little manipulation. Molly will thank her later. Hopefully.

Her friend sighs, studies her drink for a moment, then downs it. She looks bravely into the crowd. “Ok. Let’s go.”

***

It takes a while, but within two songs, Molly has loosened up enough to do more than bob her head and shuffle her feet. And she’s not a half-bad dancer, especially for someone who has never gone clubbing before. She’s not awesome, but then again, neither is Stella. Not that it matters. Even if Molly was the worst dancer out there, it would still be awesome, because Stella’s doing something she loves with someone she cares about.

And it seems Molly is enjoying herself as well. That lovely smile is back, her eyes are closed, and she’s swaying to the beat. Greens and blues and pinks from the club lights strobe across her creamy skin and catch the sequins on her top. She looks amazing. Stella loves that despite Molly’s self-consciousness, she dresses in whatever makes her happy, whether it’s in style or not. She may not always be fashionable, but she’s always makes Stella think of sunny spring days, all bright colors and fresh air. Even in the dead of winter, Stella wants to roll up her sleeves, put her face to the sky, and bask in the sun when she sees Molly and her bright outfits.

Tonight, though, Molly is more like a star—twinkly in the night sky—a far-away sun that nonetheless shines brightly. She still looks as lovely as always, maybe more so, given her initial discomfort and how she’s pushed through it to have a good time. Yes, tonight she is brave and strong. She is fierce and amazing. She is sparkles and bright smiles, and so Stella dances closer, mesmerized and so happy in this moment. Happier than she’s been in so long, even with how great things have been the past few months.

She’s felt shades of this before, like when Molly took her to the zoo on her birthday, or that time that Molly helped her figure out the murderer and Stella was able to catch him before he could kill again, or even when she and Molly are just vegging on the sofa, happily watching a film or nature show while the cats played on the floor.

Her bones sing in time to the music. She twirls and laughs, so relieved to feel this again. Molly hears her and opens her eyes, which light up when she sees Stella. Her limbs loosen and she bobs in time to the music, her sequined top flashing starlight in Stella’s eyes.

The music thumps. The lights flash. The crowd thrums.

Molly dances and laughs, forever sunny and light. She pulls Stella into her orbit. Stella realizes how close they are, how much closer she wants to be. Her mind clears, and she sees it. Sees what she should have seen from the beginning.

She’s falling in love with Molly.

The music shifts to something slow and sensuous. Molly’s smile falters. She stops dancing and steps back, looking around her awkwardly.

Well fuck.


	8. Film, 14 March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella is sad, so Molly cheers her up with a story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I was not a fan of Sleeping Beauty as a kid, so I don’t remember the movie that well. What I have here is gleaned from online summaries and then embellished as necessary for the story. 
> 
> Songspiration: [“Asleep”](https://youtu.be/KbuGWgYLqWk) by The Smiths 
> 
> Bonus: [“Baby I’m a Fool”](https://youtu.be/_qphknagXqA) by Melody Gardot 

**_Texts from Molly to Stella_ **

**Sent / 18:42  
** They’re reshowing that nature doc on otters tonight. Want to bring Miss Kitty over and drink some wine while watching?

**Sent / 18:48  
** I could order some Thai.

**Sent / 18:54  
** Or anything really. I’m not picky.

**Stella :-) / 18:59  
** Sorry. I’m not feeling well tonight. Better stay home.

**Sent / 19:00  
** Well that sucks. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. Same thing as earlier this week? It’s not the flu is it?

**Stella :-) / 19:03  
** No. Just general blah and a little headache. Didn’t sleep well last night.

**Sent / 19:03  
** :-( Not fun! What’s keeping you up?

**Stella :-) / 19:03  
** …

**Stella :-) / 19:04  
** …

**Stella :-) / 19:05  
** Just thinking too much.

**Sent / 19:06  
** Case?

**Stella :-) / 19:06  
** No. Just thoughts. You know how it is sometimes.

**Sent / 19:06  
** I do. :-( Sorry you’re going through that. Anything I can do to help? I can bring you dinner. Or read to you so you don’t have to look at bright lights or a screen. Do you need pain meds?

**Stella :-) / 19:08  
** That’s sweet, but I’ll be fine. I’ll just try to go to bed early.

**Sent / 19:08  
** Now?

**Stella :-) / 19:11  
** If I thought I could go to sleep maybe, but it’s too early still. Would probably just end up lying awake in bed.

**Sent / 19:12  
** :-( How about a bedtime story then. Will that help?

**Stella :-) / 19:14  
** …

**Stella :-) / 19:15  
** You don’t have to do anything Molls. I’ll be fine.

**Sent / 19:15  
** I want to help. You always help me. It’s my turn to help you.

**Sent / 19:15  
** I’m pants at stories, so this isn’t completely original.

**Sent / 19:16  
** Once upon a time in a peaceful kingdom, there was born a baby girl, beautiful and fair. She had everything she wanted, for she was a princess who lived in a shining castle. Her parents were loving and kind. But not all was well with the princess. At her christening, she was cursed by an evil fairy.

**Sent / 19:17  
** When she was 16, she was doomed to prick herself on a spinning wheel and fall into a deep sleep, so her father the king demanded that all spinning wheels be destroyed. Further, her parents sent her to live with good fairies in the woods. She lived a quiet and happy life there. She loved nature and animals, both which were plentiful in the forest.

**Stella :-) / 19:18  
** Really? Sleeping Beauty? Not at ALL original.

**Sent / 19:18  
** Hush you. I’m telling a story. It was my favourite film when I was a child. Aurora’s life was far more exciting than mine was. She got to wear pretty dresses and be saved by a prince. :-)

**Stella :-) / 19:19  
** I wouldn’t call wearing pretty dresses and sleeping for years and years basis for a good role model.

**Sent / 19:20  
** I was six! :-P Now, can I continue?

**Stella :-) / 19:20  
** Sorry. You really don’t have to do this though.

**Sent / 19:21  
** Do you want me to stop?

**Stella :-): 19:21  
** …

**Stella :-): 19:24  
** …

**Stella :-): 19:25  
** No go on

**Sent / 19:25  
** :-) Good

**Sent / 19:27  
** So one day the princess meets a handsome prince. They fall for each other instantly. They excitedly tell each of their guardians that they’ve met the person they want to marry, and are both told that they can’t. Everyone is very sad.

**Stella :-) / 19:27  
** Why is it always a prince? Why not another princess or a lady soldier?

**Stella :-) / 19:28  
** Not only is that heteronormative, but also it enforces toxic gender roles.

**Sent / 19:28  
** Sorry! You’re right. I’m trying to get better about that, so thanks.

**Stella :-) / 19:28  
** NP

**Stella :-) / 19:29  
** Do you watch Once Upon a Time? I wanted Aurora and Mulan to get together. They had way better chemistry than Aurora and Phillip did.

**Stella :-) / 19:29  
** Sad but not surprised when that didn’t happen…

**Sent / 19:30  
** No I haven’t. But I’m sad you don’t get to see yourself represented in media. Now I feel even worse about being heteronormative.

**Stella :-) / 19:33  
** Don’t. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. You’ve been told a certain thing your whole life. It’s hard to break that. But you’re trying now. I appreciate that. Anyway, this talk is too serious. Go on with your story.

**Sent / 19:33  
** :-)

**Sent / 19:34  
** So Aurora learns she’s a princess, and the fairies take her back to her parents at the castle for her birthday celebration. She’s lured away to prick her finger on a spinning wheel, and she falls into a deep sleep. The fairies place her in a high tower and put the whole kingdom to sleep too.

**Sent / 19:35  
** The fierce and brave Mulan realizes the girl she fell in love with in the woods is the sleeping princess, so she fights her way through briars and encounters the evil fairy transformed into a terrible dragon. It’s a tough fight, but Mulan defeats the dragon/fairy and rushes to the top of the tower to save her love. She finds her laid out in a beautiful dress, sleeping peacefully.

**Sent / 19:36  
** She falls to her knees at Aurora’s bedside. She doesn’t know how to wake the sleeping beauty. What can she do? She tries talking to her and singing. She even slaps her face (but only lightly; more like a pat). Perhaps it’s because she’s not a prince that she can’t end the spell?

**Sent / 19:37  
** So she rests her head beside Aurora’s arm and clutches her hand. She apologizes for being the wrong person to help her. She tells her that she tried. She hacked through briars and fought off an evil dragon. What else can she do?

**Sent / 19:37  
** “I wish my love could be enough to save you.” She says. She does not kiss Aurora, because it’s wrong to kiss someone without their consent. She just holds Aurora’s hand to her cheek and lets her tears fall.

**Sent / 19:38  
** When her tears hit Aurora’s skin, the princess gasps awake. She is confused but then she sees her true love crying, and she can’t have that. “What ails you, my darling?” she asks softly. “I will do whatever is in my power to make you happy.” Mulan raises teary eyes and is overjoyed to see her sweet Aurora awake. “You’ve just done it,” she replies.

**Sent / 19:39  
** The kingdom wakes up, and there is a ball to celebrate. Aurora and Mulan dance all night. The princess was promised to a neighbouring prince, but the king and queen recognize true love when they see it. Since they run the country, they make sure adoptions are written into the succession laws.

**Stella :-) / 19:39  
** Hah! I love it.

**Sent / 19:40  
** Hush. Not done.

**Stella :-) / 19:40  
** My apologies. Go on.

**Sent / 19:40  
** ;-)

**Sent / 19:41  
** Aurora realizes that while she’s glad Mulan came for her, she doesn’t like having to always be saved. She asks Mulan to teach her how to fight and how to survive in the wilderness. They go camping in the woods and they also go visit the fairies from time to time. They keep coming home with new animals. Those that are hurt and need help.

**Sent / 19:41  
** Soon the forest creatures learn that the woods surrounding the castle are safe, and that help will be provided if they are hurt. Aurora learns medicine and treats the animals herself. Mulan keeps hunters away from the woods.

**Sent / 19:42  
** After a few years of courtship (because while love at first sight is lovely and in their case life-saving, nothing beats deep friendship and connection born from time), they marry. They adopt six kids. They take in stray dogs and cats and birds. They continue running the animal sanctuary. And of course they live happily ever after. The end.

**Sent / 19:45  
** Everything alright? Was that ok? It turned out a bit different than expected it to…

**Stella :-) / 19:45  
** …

**Stella :-) / 19:46  
** Sorry. That was just really lovely. Thank you. So much. You don’t know how much this means to me.

**Sent / 19:46  
** It’s just a silly little story.

**Stella :-) / 19:46  
** No, it’s so much more than that. It’s what I wished to see when I was a kid.

**Stella :-) / 19:47  
** Also, you’re totally not pants at storytelling. That ending was so so sweet and perfect. <3

**Sent / 19:47  
** Maybe you’re my muse. Haha. :-D

**Stella :-) / 19:47  
** I’d be honoured to be your muse.

**Stella :-) / 19:47  
** You’re amazing, did you know that? Anytime I feel like shit, you make things better.

**Sent / 19:48  
** Well. You do the same for me. It’s what best friends are for right?

**Stella :-) / 19:48  
** …

**Stella :-) / 19:49  
** …

**Stella :-) / 19:49  
** Yes

**Stella :-) / 19:50  
** Nothing against your storytelling at all, but I’m sleepy now. Think I’ll try to lie down. Thanks again. Friend.

**Sent / 19:50  
** Anytime friend! Sweet dreams! :-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now I really want to see M&S doing Aurora/Mulan cosplay. That may end up later in this story or as a one shot…
> 
> Also, poor Stella! Going for the fall-for-your-straight-best-friend move. Classic. :(


	9. Blanket, 23 March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly contemplates Stella's recent silence, and Sherlock asks a favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songspiration: [“Breathe Me”](https://youtu.be/ghPcYqn0p4Y) by Sia

Despite the usually engaging program on sub-Saharan prey playing on the television, Molly couldn’t concentrate. She picked at the crocheted blanket in her lap, pulling off the pilled bits and piling them up on the sofa arm. Toby must have gone pouncing at dust bunnies under Molly’s bed or decimating the loo roll in the bathroom, otherwise he would have been batting at the pile or at Molly, demanding attention. She’d have been happy to give it. Anything to make her forget that she’s apparently done something wrong.

If she knew what she’d done, she’d be happy to fix it, or stop whatever it was that had Stella ignoring her. Stella was being subtle about it, but Molly knew avoidance when she saw it—she’d lived with avoidance for eighteen years. She’d looked through their texts, but couldn’t find anything there, so it must have been something she’d done the night they’d gone dancing.

She’d known it was a bad idea to suggest it. She was a terrible dancer, and large groups of people made her nervous. But it had been like her mouth had a mind of its own, and she’d found herself suggesting the outing after Stella had bemoaned missing it. It was like she had this pathological need to please her friend. She’d never really had a best friend before, so this was all a new experience for her, one she was still figuring out and acclimating to.

But it had actually turned out to be rather fun. She’d felt awkward as hell, especially in the beginning, but Stella had been right. The more they danced, the more she forgot to be self-conscious. It helped that she felt so at ease with Stella, who never seemed to judge her, despite all of her quirks and foibles. So they’d danced and had a cracking time.

Then Stella stopped phoning. She took longer to reply to texts and had less to say. She’d canceled quiz night, saying she was feeling unwell, then turned down dinner with the excuse that she had to work late. She hadn’t even sent any new snaps of Miss Kitty. Molly felt like she was being—what was it the kids called it—ghosted. And normally she would sigh and shrug, be a little upset that she had managed to bore or weird out another friend, and ultimately let it go. But this was Stella. They were _real_ friends. Best friends. Stella had said so just before they went into the club. She’d said it first, too, so it wasn’t like Molly had scared her off by reading too much into what was just an acquaintance-ship.

When had being friends turn into being like a romantic couple? Always worried about being too clingy, saying the wrong thing, planning the wrong outing. As a kid, and even as uni student, it had been so much easier. You both like playing in the dirt? Instant friends! Bond over coffees and late-night studying? Good mates, easy. The world of adult friending, though, was so much harder and confusing. It reminded Molly why she avoided it.

But Stella was different. They had clicked so easily, and then things had continued to be easy. Well, Molly freaked out internally and Stella just dragged her along anyway. It was what Molly needed—to know she was actually wanted and not just a pity friend. So, with the evidence laid before her, she knew Stella really wanted to be her friend. Then why the cold shoulder? What had she done to scare her friend off between Stella calling Molly her BFF and them parting at the end of the night?

Stella had chatted a bit at the beginning while they sipped their drinks, but Molly had stayed mostly quiet, as her voice didn’t carry well. Plus, she’d been nervous. Then they’d danced and, Molly thought, had a good time. Apparently, she had been wrong.

She’d been encouraged recently when Stella had let Molly tell her a silly story over text. It felt like normal again. Stella’s replies had been a little slow in coming, but she’d engaged with Molly, even though it was over a silly little fairy tale. And Molly had felt right proud when Stella seemed to really like it. It was one of the things she loved about Stella, how the woman made Molly want to do her best, be the best version of herself.

But even after that nice interaction, Stella had gone back to radio silence. She still answered Molly’s queries, but she didn’t offer up anything on her own. And since she’d transferred to Arts and Antiques, they rarely saw each other for work anymore.

Maybe it was time for an intervention. She’d just show up at Stella’s flat some evening and demand they talk. She deserved an explanation. More than that, she wanted her best friend back. It had only been a fortnight, but already she felt a gaping hole forming that Stella usually filled.

As she was forming her plan to get Stella to talk to her again, her phone buzzed. Trying to tamp down a hope that it was the person in question, Molly activated the screen.

**_Sherlock Holmes / 16:48  
_ ** _Need your help. The Mayflower Pub. 7pm._

Her first instinct was to say “yes, of course,” no questions asked. She couldn’t help that a part of her still wanted to do whatever Sherlock asked of her, but she stopped herself. This was her day off damn it. And she was busy wallowing. Or, you know, formulating a plan to talk to her friend.

**_Sent / 16:51  
_ ** _Body? Sterns is on duty tonight._

**_Sherlock Holmes / 16:51  
_ ** _Pub quiz. We need your expertise._

That stopped her for a moment. What on Earth was Sherlock Holmes doing attending a pub quiz? And why did he need her? He knew all the science and John the pop culture.

**_Sent / 16:52  
_ ** _Is John not going? He knows more pop culture than I do. But the only way I can see you attending a pub quiz is because John dragged you to it._

**_Sherlock Holmes / 16:52  
_ ** _Of course he’s coming. But we’ll stand out if it’s just the two of us. We need a team._

**_Sent / 16:53  
_ ** _It’s for a case?_

**_Sherlock Holmes / 16:54  
_ ** _Of course it is. Now are you helping or not?_

**_Sent / 16:54  
_ ** _I supposed a please is too much to ask for._

There. That was good. Molly was done being a doormat.

**_Sherlock Holmes / 16:56  
_ ** _This is Sherlock, not John. But fine. Would you please help us on this case tonight, Molly?_

**_Sent / 16:56  
_ ** _:-D I’d be happy to help. See you at 6.45? Best to arrive a little early to get a table._

**_Sherlock Holmes / 16:56  
_ ** _Good._

**_Sherlock Holmes / 16:56  
_ ** _Thank you._

As she’d been noticing over the past few months, it seemed John had more influence over Sherlock since they’d become a couple together over Christmas. Those two really were good for each other. They smoothed the rough edges of each other, making each man better, or maybe just want to be better. Molly understood the sentiment. Stella had been a little like that to her. She made Molly want to be braver, stronger, more willing to be the woman she saw herself as.

It was nice having someone who supported her and helped her. She was glad those two men had that in each other, though in a different capacity, seeing as they had the romantic bond along with the platonic one they’d formed years before. Molly was still looking for someone to be that to her, but having a best friend was a good start. And she was sort of on hiatus from the whole boyfriend thing anyway. She needed to figure herself out before she brought anyone new into her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting two chapters today. This is the first


	10. Questions, 23 March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella, Molly, Sherlock, and John attend a pub quiz. Stella and Molly finally talk, at least a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second of two chapters posted today. If you missed Molly wallowing under a blanket, go back now!
> 
> My only experience with pub quizzes are the Geeks Who Drink ones we have here in the US, so I’m not sure if anything I mention about them here is accurate. Poetic license. ;) 
> 
> Songspiration: [“Should I Stay or Should I Go”](https://youtu.be/BTFdOILfZNk) by KT Tunstall (cover) 
> 
> Bonus: [“If I Ain’t Got You”](https://youtu.be/Ju8Hr50Ckwk) by Alicia Keys 

Stella rushed through the door of the Mayflower, running late after the cabbie took a bad route and landed them behind an accident. Busy tucking away her hat and scarf, she failed to see the other person at the table until she was almost top of the group. Her feet and heart stuttered when she spotted Molly, laughing at something John was saying.

Her lovely, sunny face was lit up in that way that always lifted Stella’s spirits. Even now, a part of her relaxed to see it, though most of her was simultaneously tensing up at the surprise. Damn it. She’d successfully avoided seeing Molly since the night they’d gone dancing, and she thought she might be close to being able to see her again without either becoming a pile of pining mush or acting too awkward/stiff around the object of her affections. But now this guerilla tactic employed by Sherlock (this meet up was _definitely_ deliberate; she knew how Holmes worked by now) was throwing all of her hard work out the window.

After deliberating the first few days after she realized she’d fallen for Molly, she had considered severing all ties with the other woman—the classic blunder of falling for your straight best friend was only third in line behind getting involved land wars in Asia and going up against a Sicilian in deadly competition—but in the end, she hadn’t been able to do it. She liked Molly too much, and she enjoyed having a best friend, more so that it was Molly playing the title role. So she’d steeled herself for burying her romantic feelings so that she could at least reap the benefits of the platonic ones. And now all of her good intentions were crumbling at her feet, from just a well-placed set-up by Sherlock Holmes and the beautiful smile and sweet laugh from Molly that would make Stella do anything for her.

And what was with the detective playing matchmaker? Given his reputation, helping the lovelorn wasn’t exactly his style, though there was that one blog post John wrote up about helping that woman get out of a blackmail-induced marriage and into a happy relationship with the (female) love of her life. Perhaps he had a soft spot for queer people—not totally surprising given his own romantic relationship with a man—or perhaps said relationship had softened him up a bit. She’d never found him to be as terrible as some people claimed, but she’d only met him just before his and John’s romantic foray had begun, so maybe he’d already had his edges smoothed by the time she’d moved to the city.

Anyway, the more important question was not the why but the what. Was he trying to play matchmaker or just forcing Stella to confront her problems head on? If Molly was bemoaning her lack of best friend lately, perhaps he was just annoyed and wanted all of the drama to be over with. He had little patience for human nature, even with John tempering the worst of his inclinations.

Whatever the reasons and the goal, Stella would just have to be on her guard, both against Sherlock’s machinations and Molly’s own lovely self. She had to stay strong. She could do this.

She managed well enough for the first portion of the quiz. Because of her tardy arrival, she only had time to order a drink before the event began. Then she was busy laughing at Sherlock’s reactions to the questions and the bickering between him and John. They were the quintessential crochety old married couple, and Stella had always had a hard time believing their romantic relationship was so new. In fact, she’d thought them together when she’d first met them.

By the end of the first portion of the quiz, Sherlock was hunched in his dark coat, scowling at the quiz master, and John looked as if he wanted to pound his head into the table. When the first break was called, Sherlock made a beeline for the gents, and John went to order more drinks in what Stella deduced was a bid to avoid walloping his pouting partner over the head. She had a feeling game night was always like this for them. She kind of wanted to experience it again sometime.

Much more at ease, Stella finally allowed herself to speak to Molly. They’d discussed answers during the quiz, but they hadn’t said more than hello otherwise. Molly looked as reluctant to speak up as Stella felt, and though part of her wanted to see if she could outwait her friend, she knew she needed to be the one to offer an overture. Molly had done nothing wrong. This was all Stella’s silly problem.

“I don’t know what sort of case this is, but I’m glad they invited us to help. This is fun,” Stella said, cautiously looking at her best friend.

“I think it’s to do with embezzling?” Molly replied, just as cautiously. “I’m not sure who the suspect is, though, or how Sherlock is watching them while playing the quiz.”

“He’s a little…high strung when it comes to games, isn’t he?” Stella said, offering a smile.

Molly’s mouth quirked, but it didn’t turn into the smile Stella loved so much. She tamped down her disappointment. “He and John have always been competitive, and asking Sherlock things he doesn’t know the answer to is always a recipe for disaster. He doesn’t like not knowing.”

“He’s pretty cute when John gets the answers right, though—those little looks of awe between pretending he’s annoyed that John’s knowledge is in pop culture rather than science.”

Molly’s smile grew more genuine. “Yeah. I like seeing them like this. Sherlock being a genius is always awe-inspiring, but you’re right, this is fun.”

Before Stella could apologize for her own behavior or revel in the fact that Molly didn’t seem to hate her, John and Sherlock returned to the table carrying a round of drinks. Sherlock had just begun to explain what he was investigating when a pub employee came around to snap a picture.

“Aww, is this a double date?” crooned the girl who barely looked old enough to serve drinks. “That’s so sweet! Can you squeeze together for a photo?”

Before anyone could correct the girl, she was counting off and the flash was blinding them.

“Thanks!” she trilled, before moving to the next table.

“Why did she think this was a double date?” asked Molly, her nose wrinkled in confusion. It was definitely not adorable. At all.

“Two sets of people who are close to each other? Obvious assumption,” Sherlock intoned, eyes scanning his phone quickly before the quiz started back up.

John shrugged. “Get used to it. We’ve dealt with the assumptions since the beginning of our friendship.”

“They weren’t precisely wrong, John.”

John smiled softly at his partner. “Yeah. But they weren’t precisely right either. We weren’t together.” The wrinkle between his eyes said he wasn’t happy about that.

Sherlock put his phone away and smiled back at John. “We got there in the end,” he assured him.

They weren’t a demonstrative couple, but there was no denying their relationship. They had these looks they shared, and they moved around and with each other as if in a dance, like they knew exactly what the other was thinking. Even when they were yelling at each other and hurling insults back and forth, you could see the love behind it, the tie that bound them together, no matter how bad things got.

Stella wanted that. And she had it, a bit, with Molly. Theirs was still a young relationship, but they were beginning to understand each other. Stella just needed to get over this silly crush, and then they’d be fine. She vowed once again not to be the reason their friendship crumbled. She wanted it, despite the pain of longing and unrequited feelings. Molly was good for her, and she liked to think she was good for Molly.

They proved to be quite the team in the next portion of the quiz, where the themes of science fiction (Stella) and musicals (Molly) allowed them to dominate. But they did it together, each woman’s influence showing when Molly answered a _Firefly_ question and Stella a _Cabaret_ one.

During the next break, the men explained the case, which was a real one, even though Stella thought their reason for being there was feeble. The suspect didn’t seem to be doing anything apart from playing the quiz. There were no nefarious exchanges of goods under the table or furtive meetings out back. The man appeared to be just the average quiz geek, enjoying himself after a long day of work.

Still, Stella wouldn’t begrudge being conned into attending the event. Who knew how long she would’ve dragged her feet about seeing Molly again for fear of saying or doing the wrong thing around her. If they were to be friends, they needed to interact, to talk and have fun. And Stella was realizing they could do that. It still hurt, knowing her feeling were one sided, but she’d sorely missed her friend, and she was genuinely happy to be hanging out with her again. So whether Sherlock’s goal was to push Stella to get over her crush or to push the two women into a romantic relationship, he had done her a favor by making her face her demons.

During the final break, Sherlock went outside to call Lestrade while John headed for the loo. Molly volunteered to get the last round of drinks, and Stella followed, both to help her friend carry the drinks, but also so she could finally apologize. She didn’t want to ignore what she’d done or how it had hurt Molly.

“I’m sorry,” she said as they waited for their drinks.

“Hmm?” Molly asked, doing a lazy perusal of the crowd.

“For not being around lately. I was going through some…stuff, and I hid away. I pushed you away. I shouldn’t have done that.” She twisted her fingers together, studying them rather than looking at Molly. Just because she could get up the courage to apologize didn’t mean she wasn’t still a coward sometimes.

“Oh,” Molly replied softly. “I… You– why did you do it?”

“Because I’m an idiot?” She finally looked up. Molly was frowning, but not in an angry way. More…thoughtful. “I– I had a problem I needed to fix, and while I needed to fix it on my own, I should have at least said that I needed to hide away for a while. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did.”

“But I…I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” Molly asked as if she wasn’t sure.

Stella’s breath caught in her throat. She was always messing things up. Why did she have to make Molly doubt? She already had a hard enough time believing in herself, she didn’t need Stella making it worse.

“Of course you are, Molls. My very best friend,” Stella rushed to agree.

“Then why couldn’t I help? I want to help. You shouldn’t have to deal with anything on your own. That’s what friends are for, especially best friends.” Molly’s eyes were wide and her lips trembled a bit.

Stella’s heart broke a little more. She _hated_ that she’d hurt her friend. She grabbed Molly’s hand, holding it with both of hers. “I know. I knew what my problem was, and how to fix it, and I knew you wouldn’t be able to help. I needed to do this on my own. But you’re right, even if I couldn’t tell you what was going on, I shouldn’t have gone radio silent. It was wrong of me. I’m truly sorry.”

Molly looked at their joined hands. “You’ll tell me next time? That you’re going through something? Even if I can’t know the details, I want to support you.”

Before Stella could reply, the bartender was waving them down. They gathered their drinks and headed back to the table.

“I will. Next time, I will let you help, Molls,” Stella said softly as they sat back down. She put her hand on top of Molly’s where it rested on the table, waiting until Molly looked at her to continue. “I’ll try not to hide away, if this happens again. I promise.” She tried to convey her earnestness with a look.

She must have succeeded, either with her words or her expression, because Molly gave her that sunny smile. “Okay. Good. And thanks for apologizing.”

Stella let out a breath of relief. “Of course. Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “…the classic blunder of falling for your straight best friend was only third in line behind getting involved land wars in Asia and going up against a Sicilian in deadly competition.” Oh look, we finally see why I gave the fic the goofy title…


	11. Chocolate, 25 March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella and Molly talk about chocolate, the Easter Bunny, and paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songspiration: [“Beggin for Thread”](https://youtu.be/LVB2mXCTbNs) by Banks 
> 
> Bonus: [“Chocolate”](https://youtu.be/CHk5SWVO4p8) by The 1975. It doesn’t particularly fit lyric-wise, but it’s a fun song about chocolate and people being badass, so I’ll allow it…

**_Text convo from Molly to Stella_ **

**Sent / 13:01  
** Did my little elf leave me another present? It’s not Christmas! :-D

**Stella :-) / 13:04  
** :-) Maybe it’s the Easter Bunny.

**Sent / 13:12  
** He must have upped his game. This chocolate is loads better than the stuff I received as a kid.

**Stella :-) / 13:15  
** Wouldn’t the EB be a female? She lays Easter eggs. And of course it’s better chocolate. The EB knows adults have standards.

**Sent / 13:33**  
Hah! I suppose that’s true. Not sure that the Easter Bunny needs to be female. It’s already a bunny laying eggs. What’s to stop it from being male? Or non-binary.

**Stella :-) / 13:34  
** Point. We’ll call the EB “they” to avoid the gender issue.

**Sent / 13:34  
** :-D Well, thank them for me. The chocolate is perfect. Just what I needed today.

**Stella :-) / 14:42  
** They were doing me a favour by delivering it for me. Just a little “I’m sorry” present.

**Sent / 14:59  
** Stella! You already apologized. You don’t need to buy my love.

**Stella :-) / 15:00  
** …

**Stella :-) / 15:01  
** …

**Stella :-) / 15:02  
** Fine. Then we’ll just call it a friendship present. We already know I like to spoil you. (See: Christmas)

**Sent / 15:02  
** True. :-) <3 I’m not opposed to a little spoiling if it involves chocolate. Or gorgeous knitted hats.

**Sent / 15:03  
** Not that you need to make me more hats. Or anything at all. But you know I love my hat. I just wanted you to know that.

**Stella :-) / 15:18  
** So you’ve said. ;-) But if you don’t want to be spoiled by knitting anymore, I guess I’ll just have to give the 4th Doctor scarf I’m knitting to someone else… Do you think Lestrade is a fan? Donovan? Sherlock? O_O

**Sent / 15:22  
** I would LOVE to see Sherlock wearing that scarf! lol

**Stella :-) / 15:38  
** I want to see John talk/force Sherlock into wearing it. Hahahaha

**Sent / 15:57  
** Their bickering is amusing.

**Stella :-) / 15:58  
** Such a married couple.

**Sent / 16:00  
** Awww. I wonder if they will get married someday. That would be so sweet! <3

**Stella :-) / 16:02  
** Hmmm, I don’t really see Sherlock as the marrying type. Or John actually. They’re both so cranky.

**Sent / 16:03  
** But they’re cranky together. They’re perfect for each other!

**Stella :-) / 16:05  
** True… Who knows. Guess we’ll have to wait and see.

***

**Stella :-) / 16:31  
** God. Paperwork is tedious. Why can’t we just say “because he’s a bad person sir and should be in prison forever”?

**Sent / 16:33  
** Haha. Agreed!

**Sent / 16:34  
** Also, twinsies! I’m doing paperwork too!

**Stella :-) / 16:41  
** We don’t deserve this torture. We deserve alcohol and more chocolate.

**Sent / 16:47  
** Oh! Want to do the dessert place after work? We could meet at yours so I can bring Toby over. The kitties can have a dinner date too. :-D

**Stella :-) / 16:48  
** …

**Stella :-) / 16:48  
** Sure. Sounds great. Say half six? I should be able to wrap up this ridiculous paperwork by then.

**Sent / 16:49  
** Works for me! I should let you get back to it now so you can finish on time. See you soon!!

**Stella :-) / 16:50  
** See you soon :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I'm battening down the hatches before next chapter's Big Emotions(TM).


	12. Dreams, 2 April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly finally finds out what Stella has been keeping from her. Confusion happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated holding off a day to further edit this, but I can't take staring at this angst anymore! This is why I mostly write fluff...
> 
> Songspiration: [“Te Amo”](https://youtu.be/uagufW76mYc) by Rhianna
> 
> Bonus: [“Fuck Was I”](https://youtu.be/37Zn3cjNu58) by Jenny Owen Youngs. Be sure to read the lyrics under the video. Soooo Stella’s situation, amiright?

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” The question popped out of Molly’s mouth on a whim.

A forgettable film played out on the screen in front of them, a romance where the female lead had a five-year plan that got Molly thinking. She was curious what Stella thought about when she considered her future.

Stella turned her head away from the television set, but didn’t look at Molly, instead choosing to stare at her knees. “Oh, you know. Hopefully still with the Met, Arts and Antiques department for sure. I dunno. Just living my life, I reck.”

Molly sighed at the non-answer, but couldn’t help but smile fondly at the patented Stella response. She tried to nudge further. “Oh, come on! You have to have more than that. What about your deepest wish? If you could have anything you wanted, what do you picture for yourself five years down the road?”

Stella made a movement that looked like she was shrugging someone’s hand off her shoulder. “I want what anyone wants, Molls. A nice girl, a settled household, a job I enjoy. Why does it matter?” She frowned at her lap.

Molly shrugged, trying to articulate her thoughts. “I guess I just want to know what your deepest wishes are. I want to know what makes you tick.” Molly considered what she knew about her friend, then continued. “You say you want a nice girl and a settled household. Now, you’re not one to want ‘what anyone wants’ for its own sake, so I deduce that means you have someone specific in mind.”

Stella startled at her pronouncement, making Molly grin, proud of her deduction. “Tell me!”

“Why does it matter?” Stella replied, voice wavering. “Aren’t we watching a film? Why are we talking now?”

The panic in Stella’s tone gave Molly pause. The question was meant in fun, and to find out more about her friend, but Stella acted like the answer was a secret she had to hold in. That she wasn’t happy with the answer.

“Stella? What’s wrong?” Molly put a hand to her friend’s arm, but Stella inched away, balling up into herself. “Stella?”

Her concern grew as she watched her friend curl further into herself. “Is this why you’ve been off lately? Is this the thing you were trying to figure out?” Things had been mostly good between them recently, but Stella had still seemed like she was holding something back.

“Molls, please,” Stella whispered, still avoiding Molly’s gaze.

What if Stella thought Molly was uncomfortable with the whole lesbian thing, which was ridiculous. People loved who they loved. It didn’t matter to Molly at all. She tried to placate her friend. “I want you to be happy. If there’s some way I can help you, I’ll do it. Anything. It won’t weird me out. Promise. What’s the problem? Does she not love you back? Does she not know you exist?”

“There’s nothing you can do.” Stella sighed, then muttered what sounded like “never get involved in a land war in Asia.”

Molly’s face scrunched up. “ _Princess Bride_? What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re really not going to drop this, are you?”

“I want you to be happy. If I can talk you through to a solution, I want to try.”

Stella rubbed her face. “It’s my… code for falling for a straight girl. Classic blunder, yada yada.”

Molly’s heart squeezed in sympathy. She knew plenty about falling for an unattainable person. “Oh. Yeah, that’s not as easy to fix, I reckon.” She considered the options. “So I guess you figuring things out recently was you trying to not be in love?” Stella nodded. “Didn’t work?” Stella shook her head. “Right.” She chewed her bottom lip, hoping she could magically see a way to make things better.

“Don’t worry about it. The feelings will go away eventually. I just need time.”

Unfortunately for her friend, Molly was stubborn when she got an idea in her head. She wanted to help Stella, and by God, she’d figure this out. Stella was so amazing, she couldn’t imagine anyone turning her down, and she was annoyed with this unnamed woman for not seeing that. As Stella had taught her, romance wasn’t as easy to label as society liked to pretend it was.

“Have you talked to her about it? Maybe she likes you too, even if she’s straight.”

Stella laughed bitterly. “She’s quintessential straight woman. And I’ve never seen her look at me as anything more than a friend.”

“But how do you know for sure? Speaking as someone who had a front-row seat to the John and Sherlock Show, people are good at looking at the person they secretly love differently when they don’t think the other person is looking. Who is it? Do I know her?” She tried to think of any woman Stella had interacted with in front of Molly, but came up empty on longing looks.

“Stop!” The word was loud and harsh against the drone of the film in the background, and Stella had gone wide-eyed in panic. “I don’t want your help, okay?”

Molly jumped a little, then frowned at Stella’s words. “You should have a chance to be happy, Stella. I want to help.”

“You can’t help me.”

“Don’t be a negative Ne–”

“I’ll fix this on my own.”

“But you shouldn’t have to!” Molly tried to look as pleading as possible. “Please. I want to help.”

“Fine!” Stella gave in with a grunt. “But when this ruins everything, remember that you asked for it.”

That seemed a little dramatic, but Molly held her silence, waiting for her friend to explain things.

“You have to– What would help–” Stella sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she looked straight at Molly for the first time, fierce and strong. “The only way you could help is if you loved me back.” Pronouncement made, the bravado seemed to leave her, and she wilted.

Molly was stunned into silence. Her? Stella was saying she loved… Molly? But that didn’t make any sense. They were friends. Best friends, yes, but it wasn’t that unbreakable bond that Molly imagined romantic partners felt for each other. Just…friends. Right…?

And, on top of that, it was _Molly_. She wasn’t anyone special. It was still hard enough thinking that Stella wanted her as a best friend, but to think that someone as alive and fierce and amazing as Stella would want to pour all her energy into someone as quiet and unsure as Molly… It didn’t make any sense. They weren’t perfect matches.

“I don’t understand–”

“Like I said, I fell in love with a straight girl, my best friend. Classic blunder. No help for it. Nothing you can do since you can’t love me back.” The words were spare and quiet, but still strong.

“No. I mean, yes, I mean…I don’t love you the way you love me, but that’s not what I don’t get. Why me? You should have someone that complements you, someone who can match your…awesomeness.”

A sniffle came from the ball that was Stella. “Yeah, someone like you.”

“No. Someone amazing and strong and– and, I dunno, just more of a…person than I am. I’m still trying to figure myself out. I’m not anyone.”

Stella chuckled bitterly. “I thought you were past that. You already _are_ that awesome person for me. You’re…like the sun. You’re so blazing bright, so fierce. You shine on me and make me want to be better. Being with you makes me better already.”

“That’s just best friends…”

“What if someone wants to be with her best friend all the time? What if she’s sad when they’re apart? What if she wants to stroke her best friend’s soft skin? What if she wants to kiss her? What if she wants to touch her everywhere, make her friend feel the passion and love she feels for her?” Stella shook her head, a harsh frown marring her beautiful, usually happy, face. She jumped up and started pacing.

“You don’t feel that for me, but I feel that for you. I want to get you worked up and see you fall apart in the _best_ way. But the thought of that bothers you, doesn’t it? To you, I’m just your best friend. Anything more would be like being in love with your sister. So you really can’t help, Molly Hooper.” She stopped her pacing long enough to point at Molly, before shoving her fingers through her hair in frustration and continuing her fevered movements.

“And I was fine dealing with it on my own, but you just wouldn’t let it go! I had a good reason for keeping this from you. And now this weirdness will hang over everything, assuming you even want to see me ever again. And I want to hate you for it, for forcing this out, but I can’t! Because you only did this because you wanted so damn bad to help me, to make me happy. Because of course I’d fall for someone that caring and amazing and perfect.”

“I’m not perf–”

“Stop that! Unless that is your _single_ protestation with this whole thing, just stop.” Stella’s voice broke. “Please.”

Molly opened her mouth and closed it again. Of course it wasn’t the only protestation she had, but it was the only one she was capable of dealing with right then. Stella’s confession still had her unable to even think. She was drowning in confusion, frustration, panic, and helplessness.

“That’s what I thought,” was Stella’s response to Molly’s wordlessness.

“I just don’t know what to say,” Molly replied quietly.

“Say you can forget this whole bloody mess. Say we can just go back to being best friends. Say…” Stella swallowed hard. “Say you don’t hate me.”

Molly rushed to reassure her. “No! Never. We can’t help who we fall in love with. Of course not. But…” How did you go about saying you wanted to continue be friends, but didn’t know if you could get over the uncomfortable feelings your friend gave you? There was no nice way to say it.

“But you can’t not think about my feelings for you.” Stella went over to her cat carrier and knitting bag and began shoving things inside them. “I should go then.”

“I–” But Molly didn’t know how to finish her thought. What _was_ her thought? She wanted to reassure Stella, but had no words. “I’m sorry,” she finally finished lamely, twisting her hands in her lap.

Stella sighed, her back to Molly. “I know. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! The pain of it. I’m sorry y’all. It will get better though. 
> 
> PSA: Speaking of Jenny Owen Youngs… 1) Go search out her music. We need to support our queer indie music artists (she finally put a new song out after 6 years; yay!). 2) If you are a fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, critiquing/fan squeeing, fun podcasts, and/or adorable/funny queer ladies, please do yourself a favor and check out Jenny and her wife’s podcast, [Buffering the Vampire Slayer](https://www.bufferingthevampireslayer.com/). It is the most adorable podcast ever. They even write an original song summarizing every single episode. It’s amazing.
> 
> Now back to your regularly scheduled angsting.


	13. Eavesdrop, 9 April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is a surprisingly willing listener to Molly's problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songspiration: I don’t really have good songs for this chapter. Not many songs are taken from the POV of the person not requiting the feelings… here’s the best I got. [“Storm Comin’”](https://youtu.be/OguVb3uSZTs) by The Wailin’ Jennys, mostly for the lines “When that love calls / Will you open up your door / You gotta stand on up and let it in, you gotta let love through your door.”
> 
> Bonus: [“Science vs. Romance”](https://youtu.be/HPdCBHM7JUE) by Rilo Kiley mostly for the title itself, because Molly tries to think logically about why she’s not in love with Stella. “You go and add it all you want / Still we're not robots inside a grid.”

**_Convo between Sherlock and Molly_ **

“I thought I ended your ridiculous rift with the pub quiz.”

“What?”

“Really, Molly. As if I needed to follow a man to a pub quiz to discern that he was embezzling. I came up with an extremely tenuous reason to need both you and Hopkins in one place, a place that provided easy access to social lubricant so that you might speak more freely. And it worked. By the end of the night, you two were talking again. But only a few weeks have passed, and now something else has happened. You two have more drama than the idiots on Mrs. Hudson’s shows.”

“Oh, like you have room to talk. You ran away for two years to avoid John.”

“Don’t you– That’s not even– Your statement is specious.”

“I– I’m sorry. That was mean. I know why you jumped. I know how much it hurt you and John. I’m just…frazzled right now.”

“Frazzled? Because of what happened between you and Hopkins.”

“Do you know–”

“Only that she said something to upset you. Something you didn’t want to hear.”

Sigh. “Got it in one.”

“Do you… Do you want to…talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Should you?”

“Probably.”

“Well, I’m…here if you want to…talk.”

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic.”

“Just because I know what’s called for in a given situation doesn’t mean I like it. But I’m your friend, and I dislike seeing you unhappy, especially since you’ve been so much happier lately. Not only that, but your work has improved and your much less of an idiot to talk to these days.”

“Thanks?”

“Your welcome. So, do you wish to talk–”

“Stellatoldmeshe’sinlovewithme.”

“Ah.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“I’m not.”

“Of course. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t I share a secret someone was hiding from you?”

“But–”

“According to John, just because it was about you does not give me the right to tell you. She didn’t tell you for a reason. What if it was you keeping that secret from her? Would you be happy if I told her?”

“I’m not in–”

“Not the point. It was a private thing.”

“So what do I do now?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I’m asking you!”

“You’re asking the self-proclaimed sociopath who is in his first real romantic relationship what to do?”

“What did you do when John told you? Or did you tell him first?”

“I let him snog me senseless under the mistletoe.”

“God, you are insufferably smug.”

“So I’m told.”

“Well stop grinning. I’m confused and need help!”

“Molly, I don’t know what to tell you. Love isn’t easy, that much I know.”

“I’m not in–”

“Not the point. Feelings are illogical. One can’t help who one falls in love with. Sometimes it happens that the other feels the same, and sometimes not.”

“I don’t love her, not like that! Not like she apparently does me. And I feel _terrible_ , because you’re right. You can’t help who you fall in love with. I want her to be happy, I want her to get what she wants, what she needs, but I just…can’t feel that way.”

“Can’t?”

“She’s a woman!”

“So?”

“So I’m only attracted to men. I couldn’t– Even if I want– It would feel wrong.”

“Wrong as in immoral?”

“Don’t be daft, Sherlock.”

“So how would it be wrong?”

“Just… it would feel wrong. Can you imagine being in love with a woman? Can you imagine cuddling up to someone with curves and breasts and a soft voice? Someone who smells floral and likes romance novels?”

“John is managing just fine.”

“What?”

“He is a 1.3 on the Kinsey scale, meaning only incidentally homosexual. He has only ever dated women before and has had only one instance, apart from myself, where he has found a man sexually attractive. But he has had no trouble ‘cuddling up,’ as you say, to a person who doesn’t fit his ideal attraction. I myself am a 5.2, or incidentally heterosexual; though even that is highly simplified when you add in romantic attraction versus sexual attraction, but that’s not my point. My point is that John being a woman wouldn’t have stopped me loving him. In fact, it probably would’ve made it easier for us, since I wouldn’t have been under the impression that my advances were unwanted by John due to my gender. So what I’m asking you is, if she were a man, would you be in love with her?”

“No! Definitely not. I– I don’t think so. I mean, she’s lovely, and we get along really well. We have so much in common. But she’s not–”

“When you think of your ideal person—leaving out the physical—how many boxes does she tick? And if she ticks enough of them for you to be happy, can you make the relationship work without the more sexual aspects usually inherent in a romantic relationship?”

“I don’t understand how to separate them.”

“Then you only have to decide if you can continue being friends with her knowing how she feels about you.”

“Oh.”


	14. Tears, 9 April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella cries in the bathroom and gains an unexpected confidant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second of two chapters. Go back one chapter if you missed Molly and Sherlock's conversation.
> 
> Songspiration: [“I Want to Hold Your Hand”](https://youtu.be/RBxAdoTOnuM?t=10s) by TV Carpio (cover). I chose the cover here because of the feeling specifically invoked from the performance of this song in the movie _Across the Universe_ , where Prudence is singing about her unrequited feelings for another girl. :(
> 
> Bonus: [“Waiting on a Friend”](https://youtu.be/1LDqQ6e6BTE) by The Rolling Stones

Why is she still crying? It’s been a week since the debacle that was her love confession to her best friend. Surely she’s cried all the possible tears at this point. She’s been fine (…ish) for several days, but the minute she accidentally overhears Molly telling Sherlock how she could never love Stella back, she reverts into a weepy mess. Well, not the minute. She’d managed to hold it in for several minutes, during which she’d unashamedly listened to Molly and Sherlock’s conversation. But Molly’s vehement denial of reciprocated feelings had sent her into the nearest loo to have another crying jag.

She’s itching for her knitting, or a dance song, or maybe just some good old-fashioned alcohol, something to let her forget how crap her life is right now. She knows she’ll get over it, but in the meantime, she’d just rather not deal. This is why you don’t fall in love with your best friend. Not only has she had her love thrown back in her face, but she’s probably lost her best friend in the process.

Sure, Molly has reassured her that they’re still friends, that they just need time apart to readjust how they deal with each other, but Stella knows better. It never works that way. Even if the Molly tries to be okay with it, it eventually would get to her, and they’d spend less and less time together. Just another reminder why Stella doesn’t do best friends.

She’s about to wash the tears from her face when the door opens, letting in the last person Stella wants to see—Sally Donovan. It’s not that Stella hates Sally, not at all. They actually get along pretty well for two prickly types. But Sally is a detective and very good at it, so she’ll clock Stella’s messy face and slumped shoulders and know what’s going on in about two seconds. Stella takes a breath and steels herself.

“Hey,” Donovan begins. She heads toward an open stall, but diverts to the sink after once glance at Stella through the mirror. Yup, she’s seen her face. “You okay?”

Knowing that pretending won’t work, she goes for the shrugging off approach. “Oh, just a bad day. You know how it goes.”

Sally’s brows furrow in concern. “You’ve had a lot of those lately. You sure you’re okay?” She crosses her arms over her chest and looks defiant. “If there’s a girlfriend I need to make disappear, I can do it.”

“No, no girlfriend.”

Sally scrunches her nose. “I didn’t take you for the type, but boyfriend?”

Stella lets out a watery laugh. “Definitely not. No romantic partners at all.”

“Family?”

With a sigh, Stella turns around to face the other woman. “I’ll be fine, promise. Just need to work through some stuff.”

“I’m good for just talking, if you really don’t need me to beat anyone up.”

This surprises Stella. They’re friendly, but not friends, plus Sally isn’t exactly the most inviting person at the Yard. Not terrible, but not exactly cuddly either. Not someone Stella would confide in. Usually. But her best friend is her problem right now, so she’s running low on confidants. The past week hangs over her shoulder, and suddenly she can’t hold it in anymore.

“I fell in love with someone. She doesn’t love me back. She’s straight. But she’s a…friend, so now we’ve got this…awkward thing happening, and I really just want my friend back.”

Sally’s eyes widen. “Ah. Tough luck. I’ve been there before. Well, sort of. Guy friend, so there wasn’t a sexual incompatibility to deal with. But I blurted out my feelings for him—this was back at uni when I was young and stupid. Well, he told me he didn’t see me that way. To him I was just one of the guys.”

She grabs some paper towels, wets them under the tap, and hands them to Stella. Stella nods her thanks.

“What happened?” she asks, letting the cool towels soothe her face.

Sally shrugs. “The usual. We tried to be friends, but he finally said it was too weird. It hurt for a while, then it hurt less, then it didn’t hurt at all. I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, but just remember, it does get better.”

“I know,” Stella sighs. “I was just wishing for something to distract me while I wait for that to happen.

“I get that.” Sally looks thoughtful for a moment. “We could go out after work. Not a date, mind you,” she adds with a teasing grin. “But just some girl time. Drinks, food, dancing, whatever you want.”

Stella gives her best half smile. “Yeah? I think– I think that would be nice.”

“Great. We could do that dessert place you’re always talking about,” Sally suggests, finally heading for the stall while Stella finishes cleaning up.

“Anywhere but there,” Stella blurts out. That was her and Molly’s place. Who knows how long it will be before she’s comfortable going back.

“Ahh,” comes the reply, and the tone is far too knowing for Stella’s comfort.

She could ignore it, but she’d prefer to avoid Sally trying to surreptitiously deduce the truth all night. “So you sussed out who it is?” she asks.

The toilet flushes and Sally steps out before answering. Her face is sympathetic but knowing. “You two are pretty close. I’m sorry this happened.”

Stella shrugs. “My track record on falling for straight friends has been clean so far. I was bound to stumble eventually.”

Sally nods knowingly. “How about this? There’s a bar near my place with excellent curry next door. We’ll grab some food, then head to the bar. They’ve got great music, so you can dance if you feel so inclined. The first couple rounds of drinks are on me. We’ll get you pissed, then you can sleep it off on my lilo. I’ll even kennel my dog so he doesn’t lick your face off in the night.”

With a weak chuckle, Stella nods. They head toward the door, but Stella freezes. Sally gives her a questioning look.

“Umm, would you mind seeing if the coast is clear? Mol– She was here with Sherlock just now and…”

Sally nods and grins in a way that probably scares most criminals she deals with. Stella is impressed.

“I got your back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for new friends! Even if they’re made under less than stellar circumstances.


	15. Dare, 2 through 22 April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly contemplates different types of attraction and what it means for her (and Stella)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songspiration: [“Scar”](https://youtu.be/qKn7XAMNV-g) by Missy Higgins 
> 
> Bonus: [“The Way I Am”](https://youtu.be/_kvZpVMY89c) by Ingrid Michaelson

**_Molly’s personal journal_ **

**2 April**

~~How can she~~

~~I don’t understand how~~

~~Nothing makes sen~~

Stella told me she’s in love with me.

**3 April**

I still can’t process this. Maybe writing about it will help. Except I don’t know what to say. My brain has been offline, or stuck on the blue screen of death, or something, for 24 hrs.

I hate that I’m hurting her, but I can’t love her back.

Why does life have to be so bloody complicated?

 

I miss her

**9 April**

Sherlock doesn’t understand how the rest of us think. It’s ridiculous to even consider separating romantic and sexual attraction. The whole package is what makes it romantic attraction. If it’s just the person you love most in the world, but you don’t want to have sex with them, that’s just close friendship.

Right?

**16 April**

A week after our conversation, my mind is still unable to let Sherlock’s words go. I’m certain I’m not a lesbian, and 90% sure I’m not bisexual, but the idea of being romantically attracted to someone I’m not sexually attracted to makes me stop and think. I’ve watched a LOT of YouTube informational videos, and it’s not as strange as it first sounded.

And…it kind of fits me really well, at least in this case. I’ve always been romantically and sexually attracted to men, but along with picking men completely wrong for me (or maybe I picked them for this reason), I’ve always had a hard time getting close to them emotionally. Part of it is intimidation, but mostly it’s a lack of connection. It’s not impossible, just a lot harder than it is with women. I’ve never really given this much thought, because I thought you were supposed to be extremely close to your best friend, maybe even closer than with your romantic partner.

Women make sense. They are more comforting to be around. I don’t feel as judged by them. That being said, I don’t know if I would consider myself romantically attracted to women, and definitely not sexually attracted. But Stella is different. I’ve never felt as comfortable around a person as I do around Stella. Our conversation is so easy. We don’t have the same interests, but we enjoy learning about new things. We have so much to laugh about it. I want to be around her all the time. Seeing her happy makes me happy. I thought I was just excited to have a best friend, but when I separate romantic attraction from sexual attraction, I can see how maybe I’m falling for my best friend, strange as it is to admit it…

**18 April**

All of this thinking has made me realize how much I’ve tried to change myself to fit what other people expect of me, or of how I wanted to fit what they’re attracted to. I’ve tried most of my life to be a square peg fitting into a round hole, ready to shave bits of myself away to make people like me.

Then Stella came along and told me that I’m great just the way I am. The odder I let myself be, the more she seems to like me. Not for oddity’s sake, but because I’m being myself, “letting my freak flag fly,” as she loves to put it. It’s been freeing, to not worry about pleasing anyone but myself. And if I take nothing else away from this whole experience, I’ll have that.

I think I want more than just that learning experience though. More even than a friendship. I can imagine Stella being my plus one at weddings and such, where we could sit in a corner and giggle and drink wine if the event is boring. I can envision snuggling on the sofa to watch films and play with cats. I can see us growing old together, still with so much to talk about.

Is that romantic love? I know I would do everything in my power to protect her, even at a great cost to myself. The films all say that’s romantic love, when viewed through a heteroromantic/sexual lens. So that would mean the same for a homoromantic one, wouldn’t it?

**20 April**

What about sex though? The idea of having sex with a woman still kind of weirds me out. I’m not saying I’d hate it, or even mildly dislike it. But it’s not something I think about. I just want to be around her, that’s all. But it would be mean to deny Stella sex, just because I don’t want it with her. So what then? We’re still stuck being awkward friends? We both deserve more than that. But if what we each want isn’t compatible, that makes us not compatible, right?

This is all so confusing. This is what it’s been like in my head the past 2 wks—an endless circling between how it would be perfect and how it could never work. I don’t know what to do.

I just know that I miss her and want her to be happy.

**21 April 2014**

“The lily means I dare you to love me.”

It’s a line from a film I watched this weekend that’s stuck with me. (Yes, lesbian romcoms are just as relevant as info vids and porn [yes, I watched porn, and it was very strange.]) I think the reason I can’t figure out what to do is that I’m thinking too logically about it all. I’ve done the research, I’ve thought about the pros and cons, and the information is definitely something I needed, but love isn’t easily reasoned out. And in my case especially—where I’m completely upending what I believe about romance—it’s just something I have to dare to do, if I think she’s worth it.

**22 April**

I think she might be worth it. She’s smart and funny, she gets me, she challenges me, she’s someone I can have endless conversations with.

No. I’m sure. She’s worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course when I came upon the word “dare” for a prompt, I just had to put in some _Imagine Me and You_ goodness. If you’re reading this story but haven’t watched _Imagine Me and You_ , I’m taking away your cool person credits. Stop reading and go watch it now. <333
> 
> I’m not even going to begin to detangle Molly’s sexual and romantic attraction labels. She’s confused… She’s questioning. She’s the Q to Stella’s proud L. I thought I had my own sexuality figured out 5 years ago, but it turns out I’m still trying to understand it, so I’m definitely not going to try to shove Molly into a box that doesn’t fit. She loves Stella, that’s all that matters!


	16. Stars, 22 April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly lets her mouth get away from her, but feelings still manage to get revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songspiration: [“I Choose You”](https://youtu.be/ooiLP_zqnFs) by Sara Bareilles *Heart eyes*
> 
> Bonus: [“A Sky Full of Stars”](https://youtu.be/zp7NtW_hKJI) by Coldplay

“Molly? What– What are you doing here? You’re panting. Are you okay? Why didn’t you call me if you needed help?”

“I figured it out! At least, I think I did. I mean, we’ve still got loads to work through, and maybe it won’t work for you, but I’m willing to try, even though it’s still weird to think about it–”

“Molls.”

“–but for you I’ll try, and that’s what matters right? That’s what shows that you’re the one. You challenge me, you dare me–”

“Molly.”

“–and for once I don’t want to be a shrinking violet. I want to try, Stella, I want to accept the challenge, because it’s you and you’re amazing and worth it and–”

“Molly!”

“Oh. Umm. Stella. Oooh, your name is perfect! How did I never think of that before? You’re my star.”

“Molly!”

“Right. Um, can I come in?”

“Are you drunk?”

“Hahaha. No! Just…excited, happy, relieved–”

“Oh my god, I broke you. You’re having a mental breakdown. I went too far. I knew I shouldn’t have told you anything. God, Stella, learn to keep your fucking mouth shut, why d–”

“I’m not having a mental breakdown. I promise! The opposite, in fact. I had my eureka moment. I’m– Oh, hello Miss Kitty! How are you, my darling? Sorry I can’t play right now. I need to talk to your mummy.”

“Molls…”

“Sorry. My brain, it’s a little scattered. Give me a sec. Breathe, Molly. Okay. So. I’ve been thinking. A _lot_. Like almost constantly.”

“Okay?”

“About you. About us. About what we could be. I want to be around you all the time. I already knew this, even before you– when you told me your feelings for me. I just thought I was excited to have a best friend, but it’s more than that. When I think about growing old with someone, it’s you there with me. I was always envious of the bond between John and Sherlock, and my brain kept telling me, ‘you have that with Stella,’ but I kept fighting it, saying it was just friendship. But what I didn’t realize is that romantic attraction doesn’t have to mean sexual attraction, they don’t necessarily go hand in hand. Once I figured that out, I realized we _do_ have what Sherlock and John have, or well, we have the potential to have what they have, when we know each other better. Also, we’re not as cranky as them, but that’s probably a good thing. But what I’m trying to say—badly—is that I _do_ love you like you love me. And I want to see where it can go. I want to accept the dare.”

…

“Okay, I’m done now.”

…

“Stella?”

…

“Are you okay? Did I make sense, or did I just blather on in Latin? I know I went on the stella tangent, but I think I’m speaking English.”

“You know Latin?”

“Of course I do. I read medicine at uni.”

“But you can speak it without thinking?”

“I got really bored during summer hols…”

“Oh.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Um. Anything I can do to help?”

“I’m not sure I get it. You’re saying…”

“Okay. Well. Umm. The whole time I thought we were just being best friends, I was actually falling in love with you too? But I didn’t realize it because I’m not sexually attracted to you?”

“And that means…”

“That I want to try with you. Not sex. I mean, further down the road, yes sex, at least to try, I _am_ just a _little_ curious, I mean you are absolutely gorgeous, and I do like orgasms and what does it matter the gender of the person who helps you achieve it… Argh! Stop with the tangents, Molly! I mean, I want to try a relationship with you. If you’re okay with the no sex thing for a while as I adjust. God, that sounds so selfish of me. Why do you love me again? Do you even still love me? I’ll try! For you, I’ll try anything. Just, don’t expect much. But that goes for all of me, not just the sex parts. I’ll probably do things wrong. I’m not good with relationsh–”

“Can I hug you?”

“What? Umm, yes?”

“Good.”

…

…

“Oh, no, Stella. Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying, you’re crying.”

“Oh, good, you’re still you. So, you don’t hate me?”

“How could I?”

“I didn’t talk to you for almost two weeks after you confessed your love to me.”

“I didn’t talk to you for two weeks after I confessed my love for you to _myself_. Perhaps two weeks is the required period of adjustment for us.”

“So…just like that, we’re okay?”

Sigh. “No, I have lots of questions and reservations. But I’m still in my knee-jerk reaction period right now. I hug a lot when I have feelings.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Don’t pretend to hate it. I give excellent hug.”

Giggle. “That you do. Best I’ve ever had.”

“Gasp! Are you cheating on me, Molly Hooper?”

“No! This is all in my sordid past. When I hugged…men.”

“Well, no one is perfect.”

“Me less than most.”

“Molly Hooper–”

“Sorry! So. Anyway. We can talk about it? You’re not going to push me out the door with a ‘you already had your chance, good riddance’ speech?”

“I need some time to process, but I think I’ll let you stick around.”

“Good. That’s. Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stella is Latin for star, so I just had to throw that in there. :)
> 
> Omg y'all. My laptop went PSYCHOTIC last night. Cursor jumping all over, random programs opening and shutting. I could barely get the cursor to work long enough to shut it down. I was terrified it was going to somehow open this document and delete the whole story (I've since made a second copy just to be safe). But I left it off over night and am using my touchpad instead of my wireless mouse, so hopefully it stays working now... But if I go radio silent for a few days, it's because my computer gave up the ghost or deleted everything.


	17. Book, 13 May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella and Molly take a new step in their relationship while at a bookshop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songspiration: [“What a Difference a Day Makes”](https://youtu.be/BZPpve2vDVI) by Jamie Cullum 
> 
> Bonus: [“All I Want Is to Be Your Girl”](https://youtu.be/t09kM3Ha2lA) by Holly Miranda

“…but it’s the scene where the two are kicking arse together that made me fall in love with the comic. Their interplay is great, and the whole thing is hilarious and awesome, and the characters are amazing, and I just love it so much. And what was the question again?” Stella slows her ramble, her train of thought lost in her love for the story. She looks at her girlfriend—and wow, it’s still amazing that she can call _Molly_ her girlfriend—who is looking back at her with one of Stella’s favorite expressions, the one with the fond crinkle between her eyebrows, her smile soft and sweet and lovely.

She takes a step forward, places her hands gently behind Stella’s neck, and leans in for a kiss. Stella is startled but gives in willingly. It’s sweet rather than heated, but oh so perfect. They’ve been taking the physical side slowly, but Molly had been brave enough to jump into kissing within a few days of them getting together, and she’s now declared it one of her favorite things. They haven’t progressed much further than some very light groping, but this is their first public display in their three weeks as a couple.

They’re at a bookshop, so it’s pretty quiet and empty, but it is still public, and Stella feels warm at the thought that she’s with this amazing woman who is willing to step outside of her comfort zone for her. Molly doesn’t even look around (classic in-the-closet technique) or hesitate at all. She just smiles, then moves in for the kiss, like it’s completely natural.

And in a way, it is. Despite being different than what Molly is used to, their relationship so far has been very easy, once they got over the initial hump of “what are we?” confusion. Sure, they’re moving slower than Stella’s used to, but every new step has come so naturally, without any fuss or panic attacks or second thoughts. It’s just been them, enjoying each other and this new thing they have. It’s by far the easiest relationship she’s ever been in. Stella wishes sometimes things could get moving a bit faster, but she values Molly’s comfort above her own libido and general impatience. They need to make sure they get this right. She wants it to last.

“What was that for?” Stella asks when Molly pulls away. “Not that I didn’t love it.”

Molly shrugs and grins. “You just looked so cute, I couldn’t not kiss you.”

Stella grins back, so happy she could burst. “I’ll allow it.”

“So magnanimous of you.”

“I’m awesome like that.”

“You _are_ ,” Molly agrees. “And you’ve been amazing with me and with us and…everything. I still can’t quite believe you’re willing to put up with–”

“I’d put up with so much for you,” Stella cuts in. “You’re worth it.”

“So are you. So,” Molly continues, looking at the book in her hand. “Why do you think I need to read these? You didn’t answer my question before.”

Stella laughs. “Good thing I have you around to both get me off topic and bring me back on again. Well, what I was trying to say is that the interplay between all of the characters is great.” She goes on to explain what it is that makes comic books in general, and this one specifically, special. Stella’s never been big on reading, but her first comic experience was a revelation, and she’s been hooked ever since.

“Are you just humoring me?” she asks, a seed of doubt worming its way in, despite Molly’s interested facial expressions. Stella’s a pretty confident person, but she does worry about running roughshod over her girlfriend, who is very much a people pleaser. She doesn’t want to force her to do something she doesn’t like.

Molly looks like she’s going to protest, but then she goes thoughtful. “Maybe a little? But I do like learning new things and finding new hobbies. And I want us to have something more we can share. I like reading already, so comics aren’t too big of a stretch for me to try.”

“How about this? Try three books, if you don’t like any of them, I’ll shut up about comics forever. Well, I’ll probably natter on about ones that I’m reading, but I won’t ask you to read them too.”

Molly smiles. “That works.”

“And!” Stella continues, an idea forming in her head. “You pick three books you want me to read. Well, I say read, but probably I’ll get the audio book version…”

“Or I could read it to you while you knit or something.”

“You do that for me?” Stella feels warm again. She’s getting addicted to the sensation.

“Of course! I remember you telling me how much you loved when your auntie would read out loud when you were young.”

Stella can’t stop herself, and now she knows she doesn’t have to. She leans in and kisses her girlfriend. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“Nobody’s perfect,” Molly’s words are a brush off, but she keeps her hands where they’ve landed on Stella’s hips, and Stella could sing with joy.

“Fine, you’re perfect for me,” Stella amends, giving Molly a final peck on the lips before stepping out of Molly’s arms. Or she attempts to. She’s pulled back in before she makes it very far.

Molly’s face is serious when she looks up at Stella. “And you’re perfect for me. I’ve always felt like I was trying to be someone else before, because I wanted to be what my romantic partners wanted, not who I was. But the only way I can be what you want is by being myself. And you’ve helped me so much in learning who that is.”

“Do you…” Stella stares at Molly’s shoulder, afraid of the answer. “Do you ever think maybe you’re only with me out of gratitude?”

“No! No, Stella. I’m with you because you make me want to be my most true self. You make me happy. Happier than anyone else ever has. You– I love you.”

They’ve avoided the L-word since Molly’s frantic outpouring, though plenty of verbal affection has been shared between them. The word is a little fraught, given what had happened when it was first used. But it doesn’t make Stella flinch hearing it now. It sounds…nice, comfortable, perfect.

Stella smiles and leans in to rest her forehead on Molly’s. “I love you too. So much.” She gives her girlfriend a final kiss (again) and steps out of her arms. As much as she loves this little PDA, she’d rather they finish their errands so they can go back to Molly’s and cuddle on the sofa with their new purchases.

“Okay, so for my second my pick, I know you love tea, but what are your feelings on Turkish lieutenants and cute, adventurous ladies?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comic books talked about here are real ones, and you should read them! The first is the [Raven the Pirate Princess](http://princelesscomic.tumblr.com/post/172401453836/raven-the-pirate-princess-is-sinking) series (which is way cooler than the title makes it out to be). It’s about awesome ladies on a pirate ship, replete with DIVERSITY (sexual ID, racial, body type-al, etc.) and hilarity. The next one Stella mentions is [Delilah Dirk and the Turkish Lieutenant](http://www.delilahdirk.com/ddattl/ch0-000A-000B.html), which is super cute (and you can read part of it FREE online!).


	18. Photograph, 18 May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Group chat silliness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm done writing (go me), and while I'm not terribly happy with the next few chapters (except the last one!), I'm also tired of thinking how to change them, so Ima just post everything now. 
> 
> I had zero clue what to do with this prompt, and when nothing cutesy/romantic appeared, I was like “Hey, what if Sherlock shared a pic of a body-less head in group chat?” So yeah, this is just a stupid thing, though there is some cutesy in it toward the end. ;)
> 
> P.S. I don’t know the exact format of group chats, but I needed to show various people leaving and joining, so I couldn’t do a straight-up group text. Ignore any inaccuracies. 
> 
> Songspiration: I don’t have anything in my playlist that goes along with this chapter (bc it’s a silly chapter), so I’m just picking a song in the playlist that don’t fit anywhere else in the story. Funny thing is, this is probably my fave song I’ve shared in this fic (random and inappropriate as it may be). [“Build Me Up from Bones”](https://youtu.be/X09s37tJ09s) by Sarah Jarosz (God, I love her so much)

**_Group chat with Molly, Stella, Sherlock, John, Greg, and Sally_ **

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:37  
** CrimeSceneHead1.jpg

**John Watson / 12:37  
** Dear god Sherlock. I’m EATING

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:37  
** Not my fault that you check your messages during your lunch break.

**Greg Lestrade / 12:39  
** Sherlock! I told you not to take any snaps.

**Greg Lestrade / 12:39  
** John please come and rein in your boyfriend.

**John Watson / 12:41  
** Sorry. He’s yours until 1700

**Sally Donovan / 12:41  
** Why am I included on this?

**Stella Hopkins / 12:42  
** For that matter, why am I? Homicide isn’t my department.

**John Watson / 12:43**  
What IS the purpose of this group chat Sherlock?

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:43  
** I thought it would be edifying. Everyone is always asking how I deduce things, so I thought I’d play a little game. Can anyone tell from this photo alone how the victim died?

**Greg Lestrade / 12:44  
** BEHEADING YOU PRAT

**Sally Donovan / 12:44  
** Seriously Holmes? His head was hacked off with a machete. It’s all in the room WE’RE CURRENTLY STANDING IN.

**Molly Hooper / 12:45  
** I’m not in the room! Neither are Stella or John. So we appreciate the picture. :-D Is this coming my way later? How exciting.

**Stella Hopkins / 12:45  
** My girlfriend gets excited over dead bodies. I know that should bother me, but I just find it adorable.

**Sally Donovan / 12:45**  
Ugh. I’m surrounded by couples. Greg, we are NOT getting together fyi.

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:46  
** Can we get back to the original topic please? I’m trying to teach you people to use your brains.

**Molly Hooper / 12:46  
** Sorry! Hmm, I see some bruising around the neck—what little there is! Was he strangled?

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:47  
** Yes, he was strangled, but that didn’t kill him.

**Greg Lestrade / 12:48  
** We’re not going to get it. Just walk us through it.

**John Watson / 12:48  
** allergic reaction

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:48  
** Excellent. Why do you think that?

**John Watson / 12:49  
** Swelling around the eyes, nose, and mouth. Is it from the scratch on the ear? It also looks puffy.

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:49  
** John is correct. Molly will need to do a full autopsy to determine the cause, but the scratch on the ear is the likely cause.

**Sally Donovan / 12:50  
** Watson’s sleeping with Holmes. Unfair advantage

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:50  
** Donovan, are you implying that IQ and/or the ability to deduce is passed on through seminal fluid?

**Greg Lestrade / 12:50  
** Semen aside…John is around you a lot more than we are. Perhaps your abilities have rubbed off on him.

**Sally Donovan / 12:50  
** Rubbed off indeed

**Stella Hopkins / 12:51**  
So was the allergic reaction purposefully caused? And do you know who strangled/chopped his head off? And why?

**Molly Hooper / 12:51  
** Good question sweetie!

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:51**  
Thank you for staying on the relevant topic, Hopkins. The reaction was induced, but then either the reaction was happening too slowly or the killer was further angered, causing them to ineffectively strangle the victim. I’m still working on the reason for the beheading though.

**John Watson / 12:52  
** I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You always do! Ok, my lunch is almost over, so I’ll be signing off now. BE CAREFUL SHERLOCK. Please don’t confront anyone until I’m with you.

_John Watson has left the group._

**Sally Donovan / 12:52  
** Ugh, I’m leaving too. This is nauseating. And I’m not talking about the head…

_Sally Donovan has left the group._

**Greg Lestrade / 12:53  
** I’m out as well. Sherlock, sign off so we can continue the investigation.

_Greg Lestrade has left the group._

_John Watson has joined the group._

**John Watson / 12:54  
** Almost forgot. We still on for pub quiz on Thursday ladies?

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:54  
** No

**John Watson / 12:55  
** Hush you numpty. I wasn’t asking you. You enjoy it, don’t try to hide it!

**Stella Hopkins / 12:55  
** Hah! We all saw his face after the second round last week. Everyone knows he secretly loves it. When he’s not too busy hating the quiz master.

**Molly Hooper / 12:56  
** You did do really well last week Sherlock. And we came in second place! It was fun :-)

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:56  
** We should have come in first place. The other team was cheating. And I *will* prove it.

**John Watson / 12:57  
** Which means you have to actually show up. We’ll be there unless there’s crime to solve… Have a good afternoon ladies. Sherlock let me know if you want me to start dinner or if I should meet you somewhere.

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:57  
** Fine. We’ll go to quiz night. Goodbye, John.

_John Watson has left the group._

**Molly Hooper / 12:58  
** If you’re not working late Sherlock, you two could try out the new Korean place with us this evening. I’ve heard it’s delicious.

**Stella Hopkins / 12:58  
** I’ve been looking forward to it aaaalll day.

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:58  
** Are you going to try to force us into all manner of double dates now? We’ll pass.

**Molly Hooper / 12:59  
** Or maybe we just want to see you because we’re friends?

**Sherlock Holmes / 12:59  
** I’m beginning to re-think this whole friends lark.

**Molly Hooper / 12:59  
** You can’t! The deal was sealed when you helped me through my romantic crisis.

**Sherlock Holmes / 13:00  
** Sentiment really is a defect. I should have listened to Mycroft. Oh god, it pains me to type that.

**Molly Hooper / 13:00  
** Don’t listen to smelly old Mycroft. Come to the light side. We have cookies!

**Sherlock Holmes / 13:00  
** So does Mycroft…

_Greg Lestrade has joined the group._

**Greg Lestrade / 13:01  
** SHERLOCK HOLMES. GET YUOR FACE OUT OF THAT SCREEN AND YOUR ARSE BAK ON THE SCENE. WE HAVE WORK TODO.

**Sherlock Holmes / 13:01  
** I’ve seen all I need to at the scene. I’m off to check the cousin’s flat. I’ll let you know what I find.

_Sherlock Holmes has left the group._

**Greg Lestrade / 13:02  
** God help me. I will murder him someday.

**Stella Hopkins / 13:02  
** Might want to reconsider that mate. John would throw a WOBBLY. And then kill you. And you just know Sherlock has taught him how to hide the body and all evidence…

**Greg Lestrade / 13:02  
** You’re right. Well, I should get back. Afternoon ladies.

_Greg Lestrade has left the group._

**Molly Hooper / 13:03  
** That was fun. :-)

**Stella Hopkins / 13:03  
** You’re adorable.

**Molly Hooper / 13:04  
** I have my days. ;-)

**Stella Hopkins / 13:04  
** And they are many. So, dinner. Can we reschedule for 7.30? I’ve got to run across town to drop off some files. Blech.

**Molly Hooper / 13:05  
** Awww poor you! Yeah, 7.30 is fine. I’ll bring Toby over to yours as soon as I’m done with work so Miss Kitty isn’t home alone.

**Stella Hopkins / 13:05  
** Perf. Okay, I gotta get to a meeting. See you this evening! :-*

**Molly Hooper / 13:05  
** Be safe! :-*

_Stella Hopkins has left the group._

_Molly Hooper has left the group._


	19. Sleep, 24 May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new step for the happy couple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that I’m posting four chapters today. Start with Ch 17 if you’re following along as I post.
> 
> *sigh* Okay, so I can’t do sex scenes. I guess it’s the ace in me? This is as close as I get. Impressions, but without focusing on…sex stuff. I hope it’s not horrible. I would have left it out completely, except I really do think this is part of their journey. Here’s to hoping you don’t find it completely terrible. Apologies if you hate it. P.S. It's baaarely PG-13, if that worries you. Like, super vanilla and vague.
> 
> Songspiration: [“Angel”](https://youtu.be/v3uGDl6gdyQ) by Massive Attack. Listen to this song while you read. It really sets the mood for the first part of the fic. Lyrics aren’t particularly relevant.
> 
> Bonus: [“Only a Girl”](https://youtu.be/SnnQ5CWLQOw) by Gia

Flashing lights. Glitter.

Soft skin. Heat.

Pounding beats. Sweat.

Music sensuous, low, velvet, soft, thrumming.

The club is dark, except for brief flashes of light. The manic dance music of earlier has transformed into slower, deeper beats—carnal drums over sensual melody. The dance floor is packed, people are paired off, groups have disbanded. Movements are slower, closer, more heated.

Hands grip a waist, gently but firmly. Sweat slicks the way for bodies to move together, to align. There is the bite of liquor lingering on the tongue, but even now it fades, gives way to adrenalin and need. The music is rhythmic in the ear, persuading the body to move in time, to align, to connect.

Lips meet. There is a hint of tongue, but it quickly darts away. Cheeks linger together, to be replaced by lips and noses.

Skin, smooth, warm, slick, whisky vanilla.

Breath hot, quick.

Music beating like a heart.

***

Cold night air, a giggle and “wait ‘til we’re home,” humming cab engine, warm presence.

***

Home. Warm familiarity. Bumping furniture. Cats underfoot.

Bedroom.

Hungry lips, exploring hands, low sighs.

The bed is soft, the sheets cool. Against cotton, skin sticks. But skin against skin is slick, warm. The air in the room is cool, but not like the outside night air, which pimpled skin and cooled fingers. Now the air is pleasant, cool enough to sooth heated skin, but not enough to chill.

Fingertips glide from top to bottom. Lips are warm and firm against lips, against skin. Moans color the air. Hands clamp on hips.

“Not yet. I want _all_ of you, coherent, present. Sleep now. Play later.”

***

Black recedes slowly. Warm body pressed close. Quiet breathing. Legs tangled.

A low hum. An answering sigh.

Fingers are soft, soothing and sleepy to start, but becoming more purposeful as sleep is pushed away and awareness takes over.

There is the fuzziness of waking, but also the growing heat of lust. The citric bite of need. The realization of _It’s time. Now. I am ready. Want._

Hands roam over angles. Lips explore curves. Fingers find secret spots. Tongues discover hidden places.

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please. Please.”

Hips twist. Fingers answer. Breath quickens.

Hands in hair, gripping just short of pain. Chest heaves as sweat trickles down. Heart trips.

So. Close.

“Oh yes. Please. Yes. More.”

Fingers. Rhythm. Sighs. So high.

“Yes. Fu– oooh.”

Quick. Tongue. Velvet. Heat. Higher.

“Stel–”

Bright lights. Shatter.

***

“Awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Doing okay?”

“Yeah.”

“It was…good?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“It was the best. Transcendent. It was…you. And me. Together. Perfectly combined. It was…”

“Yes?”

“Love.”

“Good.”

“Yes.”

Sigh.

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Sleep, Stella.”


	20. Rain, 7 June

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella tells Molly a bedtime story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fourth of four chapters posted today. Run, don’t walk, back to 17 if you missed the previous three chapters.
> 
> Last chapter! Aaaaaghhhh! I wrote this way back when I wrote the ficlet of Molly telling the fairy tale to Stella. Since that one was bittersweet, I wanted something happier and just knew I wanted to use it as my final ficlet. Warning: Sugary adorableness ahead.
> 
> Songspiration: [“Something Just Like This”](https://youtu.be/FM7MFYoylVs) by The Chainsmokers and Coldplay (omg, this vid is adorable)
> 
> Bonus: [“Heaven is a Place on Earth”](https://youtu.be/j184FPzAzeE) by Belinda Carlisle. Cliché, but I can’t not end my first f/f fic with anything else… Now go watch the linked video and get some “San Junipero” goodness.

Sigh.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Stupid storm. Every time I get close to sleep, there’s a crack of thunder that wakes me up.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Mmm, make it stop?”

“Sorry, darling. I’m tight with the snow gods, not the rain divinities.”

“Then no.”

“Aww, don’t pout, Molls. There must be something I can do.”

“Tell me a story?”

“Okay. What kind of story?”

“Any kind. You know what I like.”

“You better believe it.”

“Shut up. Not like that.”

“So not _that_ kind of story then. See, this is why I need specifics.”

“A bedtime story.”

“I’d say that’s a _very_ bedtime story.”

“ _Stella_.”

“Okay, Ms. Grumpyface. Let’s see. A bedtime story that’s PG and will help you fall asleep… Got it! You ready for this?”

…

“I said, are you read for this?”

Sigh. “I’m ready for this.”

“Once upon a time, there lived a young girl. She wasn’t a princess, though she was pretty enough to be one. The sun glittered around her, even on the darkest days. She had a smile that made flowers grow and children giggle in delight. So maybe she was a secret princess. We’ll never know. Anyway, she’d been told her whole life that if she waited and watched, someday her prince would come. So she waited. She met many handsome men—good ones, bad ones, gay ones–”

“I don’t think I like this story.”

“Hush. I’m telling it, so it’ll be fantabulous. Where was I?”

“Gay ones.”

“Ah yes. Idiot ones who couldn’t tell their arse from their nose–”

“Which one is that, because it could be–”

“All of them, for not seeing how amazing the possibly secret princess was.”

“Is she really that–”

“Yes. Now are you going to keep interrupting, because I _will_ stop talking.”

“Sorry. I’ll be quiet. Go on, oh great storyteller.”

“Thank you. So the lovely lady waited, as she was told she should. Unfortunately, she lived in a society full of toxic masculinity and sexism, so she didn’t realize she didn’t have to wait. She could write her own story. But no matter. Someone new was waiting in the wings, ready to make her see how asinine society was.”

“Asinine? Someone’s been hanging around Sherlock too much.”

“Hey, it’s a good word, and he’s a good detective. I regret nothing. Now, moving on. The gorgeous gal grew tired of men and all of their drama. She decided no one was awesome enough to handle her, so she struck out on her own adventure. And because she’s the hero of the story, she was sent a companion to accompany her on her journey. They got along swimmingly, as if they were made for each other. They made each other laugh, and they had fun. They went on great adventures and slayed many dragons. But then her companion made one of the greatest blunders ever.”

“She got involved in a land war in Asia?”

“Close. She fell in love with her straight best friend.”

“But feelings are feelings! And maybe the first woman wasn’t as straight as assumed. Or. At least, maybe she was romantically inclined to more than one gender or sex.”

“Too right. But the companion didn’t know this. The lovely lady didn’t even know this. There was a wise and snarky man in a dump of a flat who knew, but everyone else was blind to the idea.”

“Strangers knew.”

“True. But there was an aura around the woman that blinded anyone who knew her from realizing the truth.”

“Was she cursed?”

“Perhaps. The society she lived in was cursed, at least. But do not lose hope, dear listener. For though the companion confessed her feelings for the lovely lady and the lady in return said she couldn’t love her back, causing the two to be tragically parted for a time, there was hope.”

“I don’t see how. The lady sounds like a right idiot.”

“We all are, from time to time. But the lovely lady grew restless. Something didn’t feel right. Because she was very smart, she soon realized that she had mistaken her feelings.”

“She still sounds like a right idiot, for taking so long.”

“Not this time. No. Feelings are complicated and hard to understand, especially when you’ve been given black and white terms to deal with them. But she realized her companion was also rather smart–”

“And humble.”

“Oh yes, very much so. And she thought about all the things they’d talked about since they’d met. And she realized she didn’t have to fit into any mold or preconceived idea. She could be who she was inside, and she could love the person who made her the happiest. So she went to her companion and gave her the most precious gift she could give.”

“It wasn’t that pre–”

“Yes it was. And the companion swore to treasure that precious gift for as long as she was allowed to keep it.”

“Forever then?”

“One can only hope.”

“Good.” Yawn.

“Sleepy now?”

“Mhhmm.”

“Good. Sleep well, my gorgeous gal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little journey of Stella and Molly’s. I brought Molly in on a whim in Sherlock and John’s story, but quickly realized she needed a partner of her own, and thus came Stella. I didn’t have romantic designs on them then, just wanted to know more about them. When I thought on Stella, though, I saw pining and heartbreak, but wanted to give her a happy ending. And I saw how quickly she gravitated to Molly and the sort of knowing innocence she provided, and I knew I’d found her match. I hope you think they’re a good pair as well. Thanks for reading and loving and commenting. This is my first real foray into f/f, and I have to say I’m hooked!
> 
> Songspiration: I love music, and it inspires me every day. I hope you enjoyed the song recs I sprinkled throughout the story. I have some honorable mentions that didn’t fit with specific chapters, but they make me think of Molly and Stella all the same, and they made a spot on my M&S playlist. Enjoy!
> 
> \- “Dancing in the Dark” by Solange; this is a Stella song, for sure  
> \- “Dance Me to the End of Love” by The Civil Wars (cover)  
> \- “Just Like Heaven” by The Cure  
> \- "What I Need" by Haley Kiyoko, featuring Kehlani  
> \- "Wicked Game" by Gemma Hayes (cover)  
> \- "Sleepover" by Haley Kiyoko

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on Tumbler [@vateacancameos](http://vateacancameos.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [@aerynmoon0](https://twitter.com/aerynmoon0)


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